The Tainted Knight
by bioncafemme
Summary: Warden Commander Selene Cousland is summoned to Redcliffe to save Ser Perth from dying of Darkspawn taint. When she gets there however she realizes that he's been purposely infected, but to what end? Ser Perth/Cousland, rated M
1. Chapter 1

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 1: Disturbing News**

Selene Cousland set down the letter from King Alistair she received earlier that morning. It had been months since he had ended things between them but still, the pain felt as fresh as it had the day it happened. She shook her head to clear out the old anger that still plagued her. She had staunchly refused to think on it and most days it worked. Being the Grey Warden Commander of Ferelden certainly gave her more than enough to do, she simply raced from one thing to the next. It kept her busy enough that she fell into bed every night too exhausted to think of him. It had been a blessing from the Maker that he had not tried to contact her until now. She assumed that he was trying to give her space.

Now months later, he sent a letter that she contemplated ignoring...but then he was King. One did not simply ignore a letter from the King of Ferelden. She must admit now that it was wise that she had finally decided to read what he had to say. The letter said nothing of the two of them, for which she was grateful. Only it seemed that it was at the request of Arl Eamon (now Chancellor Eamon) that the letter was sent. Arl Teagan had taken over Redcliffe and had inherited a mess. On top of rebuilding the town and the castle, one of his loyal knights has come down with a serious illness. Normally, this would not be cause for her to be contacted, but it appeared that the Knight was somehow infected with the taint. Despite the illness he had survived thus far by will and courage alone. No one had realized he was even sick until he collapsed during his duties one night and developed a high fever. First Enchanter Irving had sent a mage to keep the Knight comfortable and from getting any sicker. Eventually however, he would die. The Knight had requested that she come, his last request being one only she could grant.

That Knight was Ser Perth. She had felt her heart drop into her stomach upon reading that. Brave Ser Perth, a kind man with a kind and chivalrous manner. He had asked nothing of her other than to help him increase the morale of his men. He was a man worth saving.

"Argus!" she shouted.

A grizzled looking dark haired fellow she had picked up as she was leaving Denerim opened the door, "Yes, Commander?"

"I am leaving immediately for Redcliffe, pick me three Wardens who know the pummel of a sword from the pointy end, and have them ready within the hour. I'm leaving you in charge, and by Andraste's blood don't kill anyone while I'm gone," she said the last with a grin.

"With this lot I'd be doin' you a favor!" he snorted and then raised an eyebrow at her in suspicion. "You alright? Did somethin' in the Kings letter upset you?"

Selene shook her head. "One of the Knights at Redcliffe has come down with the taint. He's a good man and helped me on my quest. He doesn't deserve to die like that," she rose from her seat and crossed the room. She set a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you for your concern," she smiled softly.

The older man straightened and then nodded, "You're a good girl. King or not, what he did to you was not right. You might be the fearless Warden Commander but you got a heart of gold, anyone who takes advantage of that deserves to be knocked on his arse!" he finished with a growl.

Selene snickered, "As much as I would love to see that I think your head looks better attached to your neck."

Argus shrugged, "Old thief like me expects to lose it at some point. Better it be for something worth while like a Ladies honor than a few pick pocketed silvers."

She laughed then and hugged the older man tugging on his graying beard playfully, laughing further when he scowled and batted her hand away. "Take care of things while I'm away, Argus. I'm going to go get ready. Pick me out some good men, yes? Ones that know how to keep their mouths shut," she added as an afterthought.

He nodded and watched her leave her office, shaking his head when she was gone from sight. The Lady deserved some joy in her life. Unfortunately, Grey Wardens weren't known for happy endings.

* * *

Selene left her office and made her way down into the bowels of the Fortress at Amaranthine. Once the home of Arl Howe, the lower levels were full of prison cells and torture chambers. Selene had them all gutted and made into dormitories and Armories. The upper levels were reserved for guests and Senior Grey Wardens. Selene felt it a Grey Wardens due to receive rewards on length of service and accomplishments given their short life span. Argus had a room down the hall from hers, though he still refused to take rank as her second. He was after all in his early fifties. He didn't want to take over the Wardens as an old man, should she perish. Claiming it was a stressful job meant for a young person and she had no business putting an old man into it. She didn't point out to him that Duncan was most certainly in his fifties or late forties. But then again, she didn't know how long Duncan had been the Senior Grey Warden of Ferelden. It seemed 'Warden Commander' was a term not used since King Arland's days when Soldiers Peak was the Grey Warden stronghold.

She thought a moment about the Northern Stronghold and decided that it was perhaps time to go and check on Avernus once she had Ser Perth taken care of. Levi had continued to keep in touch with her, even after she had sent some of the newer recruits up there to garrison the fortress. He was her eyes and ears there and he said that he still hadn't heard a peep out of the old Maleficar. He didn't dare go up to the tower and check up on him. The newer recruits didn't bother either, thinking that if the old coot wanted company he'd come out sooner or later.

Selene knew better, of course. Avernus spent centuries in that tower, surrounded by abominations and corpses. The old mage was most certainly not unused to being alone. She wouldn't be surprised if he died sometime after the last battle and turned to dust over one of his experiments.

Pushing Avernus out of her mind she greeted a few of her fellow Wardens. Some that she had went out and recruited personally, some that had come to her on their own and requested the honor of testing. They were all good men and women. Each willing to do what it took to defeat dark spawn, each harbored a solid core of strength and iron will. They were a family, one large sprawling warrior tribe. She had not felt this at home since Fergus left for Ostagar all those months ago.

Finally, she reached the door to the Warden repository. Opening the door she felt the instant blast of spelled chill air. Here they kept vials of dark spawn blood and the preserved blood from the Archdemon. Silently she crossed the threshold and prepared a few vials to take with her. In three clean vials she mixed the proper amounts of dark spawn and the Archdemon's blood and put a stopper in each. She always brought some with her in case she happened upon a case where she needed to conscript someone, as in Argus' case.

It had been one of her greatest delights using the Grey Warden right of conscription. Alistair had to actually send her a missive to tell her to ease back after she had gone on a conscription rampage once she left Denerim. Many of them were apostate mages. The chantry was not amused. Alistair, being an ex-templar wasn't amused either. Though she could hardly have been arsed to care at the time. But she had acquiesced slightly and had refrained from conscripting escaped mages when she could help it.

With the last stopper snugly in place she left the room and carefully locked the door behind her. The vials safely tucked away in a pocket, she made her way up to her room.

Once there she took the Warden Commander Armor off its stand and slipped into it, expertly strapping the chest plate into place following it up with the gloves and boots. The act of donning the armor was so familiar that she might have been able to do it half asleep in the dark. Actually now that she thought of it, she had done so more times that she cared to admit. When she was sufficiently armored she grabbed a saddle pack and stuffed a few changes of clothes into it along with some other gear. Last but not least, she retrieved Duncan's sword and Starfang and strapped them to her back, the very blades she charged into the last battle with. The red steel of Duncan's sword clashed dazzlingly against the sparkling sheen of the blue star-metal. Even if she were to leave the Warden Commander armor behind, she would be known by these blades alone, which were now legends in their own right. It had been Duncan's sword after after all that cut off the Archdemon's head. She felt it only fitting at the time.

With her helm tucked under one arm and her saddle pack over the other she made her way down to the stables. There the other Wardens awaited her, along with Argus. She smiled, he had chosen well. The three crossed their arms at the wrist over their chests and bowed to her. She repeated the same back. It had become a Grey Warden salute of sorts. She looked them over, each wearing a type of Warden uniform. She had decided that the Wardens needed to be more organized and united once the blight was over, having taken to the Warden Griffin insignia of old she had made sure that some armor was made and shipped from soldiers peak, the heavy chain mail had the symbol of the Griffin emblazened on the front and outlined in blue. The same was etched into shields and sword pummels. The three Wardens Argus had picked were dressed in this uniform. With the exception of Xephi, (whom was wearing a blue tevinter style mage robe) the Griffin insignia was instead stitched into his belt. Xephi winked at her when he caught her looking over his attire. She rolled her eyes skyward, he was a bit too much like Zevran at times.

The other two were Cyrus and Niara. Cyrus was a former soldier of Howe's that she had found starving and locked in the dungeons. His crime was desertion, only the Arl had left Amaranthine and had not returned to have him hanged. When she asked why he was deserting he said that he had learned of Loghaine and Howe's plan and he had tried to escape to Ostagar to warn the King. She couldn't fault him for that. Had he made it in time, her family might not have been slaughtered, and the King might still be alive.

Niara had come to Amaranthine and challenged her to a duel. Apparently she had just beaten Isabella quite handily and was still looking for a challenge. When she was barely beaten by Selene she had dropped to a knee and sworn fealty to her and the Wardens, and was put through the joining that very night.

"I trust you are _all_ ready to go?" Selene asked as she looked over each of them already standing by their horses, which looked to be packed with supplies and camping gear. They nodded.

"Alright then," she secured her saddle pack to her horse. Turning to Argus she took the reigns from him. "Look after them, old man. I'd hate to come back to find the place over run with dark spawn when I return," she grinned when he scowled.

"Don't get into trouble, Commander," he replied gruffly.

Selene vaulted up into her saddle,(no easy feat in full armor) and slipped her helmet over her head. Her long twin braids had long ago been cut off and her hair was now short. There was simply no time to manage it, and it had been a long time since she had anyone to look pretty for. After ripping the head off an Archdemon, she just couldn't bring herself to care about her vanity.

With a last goodbye to Argus and a nod to her new traveling companions she gently heeled her mount into a steady gait, it was time to go back to Redcliffe.

* * *

It took only a few days to reach the town of Redcliffe, her small party of Wardens seemed to actually get along quite well with one another, despite Xephi's many failed attempts to woo Niara into his tent. They had encountered a surprising number of Darkspawn which worried Selene. They should be more scattered than this, but they had encountered a few ambushes and the Emissaries seemed to have decided that she was the main target. All the dark spawn they encountered immediately tried to swarm her. Thankfully Xephi was quite adept at area spells and took down clusters of the foul creatures before they could even reach her.

Redcliffe however, seemed to be unaffected by the roving bands of dark spawn. In fact, since Teagan had taken over the reconstruction had brought many new shops and new homes were being built on the lake front. As they led their mounts over the first bridge heading towards the castle they were met by a familiar face. "Tomas! Its good to see you!" Selene stepped forward and clasped hands with the man. He looked much better than on her first visit to Redcliff and it gladdened her heart.

"My Lady!" he beamed. "The Arl sent me to fetch you. He's most anxious to see you," he said happily and motioned for her and her companions to follow.

Once inside the gates her horses reigns were taken from her from a stable hand. "Niara, Cyrus...go with the stable boy and make sure that the horses are rubbed down. Also see if you can't get some supplies from the Quartermaster. We may not be staying long," she said. They both bowed and did as she ordered.

She turned to Xephi who was grinning at her foolishly. She snorted. "Yes, yes...you get to come with me. Just behave yourself!"

Xephi flashed her a roguishly handsome grin. "What? Meeee? I'm a model of good behavior, a saint really. Why Andraste herself was a naughty little minx compared to me!"

"Yes?" she intoned dryly. "It was some other handsome mage that seduced that Chantry sister then?"

"I was only testing her love for the Maker, is all. She can't be a priestess with all those dirty thoughts, wouldn't be right. I was just doing my duty to the Maker is all," he chuckled.

Selene laughed. Xephi might be an incorrigible flirt but it was less disconcerting than traveling with some shy chantry raised boy. She had made a silent vow to herself to never again fall for innocent, shy men. It could only lead to heart ache and ruin. "Come on, lover boy. We need to go see Arl Teagan," she said.

Once inside they were lead to the Main Hall where Arl Teagan was immediately at her side. "My Lady Selene! You have come back to Redcliffe, at last! You have no idea how wonderful it is to see you. You're looking as radiant and beautiful as ever," he took one of her hands in his and lifted it to his lips, kissing it gently.

"Your Grace, please. Its Selene, you know I no longer hold any titles," she smiled as he straightened and met her eyes. They were full of something that she could only name as affection, with a trace of something deeper. She looked down, her cheeks aflame.

"You will always be a Lady to me, you're a good woman. The Maker blessed me the day he first sent you to Redcliffe," he looked over her shoulder to find her fellow Warden eying him. "May we be permitted to speak privately for a moment, my dear?"

Her eyebrows knitted together in question and then she glanced back at Xephi, whom looked like he was not so pleased with the familiarity that the Arl was demonstrating towards her. "It's alright Xephi, Teagan is a dear friend of mine, if you could wait outside in the hall, I shall be out momentarily."

Xephi looked as if he were about to protest and then narrowed his eyes fractionally, finally nodding he turned and strode out. The guards shut the door behind him.

Teagan's eyes watched the young mage go and when the doors shut he turned his gaze back to Selene. He laughed softly, "I see you have an admirer."

"Xephi?" she laughed. "He is an admirer of women in general."

He lifted an eyebrow and took her hand, tucking it under his arm. He lead her towards the fireplace away from the guards. When they reached the fireplace he turned and clasped both her hands in his.

"Teagan, you look worried. Is Ser Perth worse than I was lead to believe?" she asked.

"His condition is stable, for now," he reached a hand out and tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "It's you, I am worried about."

"My Lord?" Selene tilted her head to the side in question.

"I heard about Alistair," he said gently.

"Oh," her heart sank. "I see."

"What he did, he did out of fear I think. He wants to be a good King. While he would have gotten pressured by the Landsmeet to provide an heir, that is true. It would not be so taboo that he would have lost the throne. He could have named anyone his heir. What he did, he did without getting all the facts or weighing the consequences," Teagan said.

Selene narrowed her eyes at him. "So, are you saying that he broke my heart out of ignorance, and I should what? Forgive him?"

The Arl shook his head, "No, he needs to seek his own forgiveness. I just wanted to tell you that while I can see how he did what he did, I would never be so foolish."

"Oh!" she answered as if she had just realized what was going on. "My Lord, I-" she paused as if searching for the right words.

"I found something in my brother's study, the day we took the castle back from those undead creatures," he said.

Selene was thrown off her balance. One moment he was confessing to having feelings for her and the next he was talking about something else. "What was it?" she asked softly, her eyes still locked on his.

"A letter from your Father to my Brother, apparently they had planned to introduce us...once your family finished its obligations to Cailan at Ostagar," the hand that had brushed the hair from her face traced its way over her cheek lightly, causing Selene to shiver.

"They were arranging a marriage?" she tried not to let her eyelids slide close at his touch. His palm cupped her cheek and she leaned into it unconsciously.

"Just so," his thumb ran over her skin. "I thought that perhaps...now that Alistair is no longer in your life, you might consider...what I mean to say is...I could have no better wife than someone who is as beautiful and as brave as you. If you would but have me," he watched as Selene's eyelids flew open and her eyes searched his.

"My Lord, this is very sudden. I'm not sure what to say!" she blushed.

"My, but the 'Hero of Ferelden' does blush prettily," he teased. "Say you'll think about it, that is all I can ask."

"I will think about it, My Lord," her cheeks growing hotter and she tried not to scowl at him for teasing her. Instead she moved on to the real reason she was there. "Perhaps if you could show me to where Ser Perth is being kept, I could take care of my current business?"

"Oh! Yes, forgive me. I have forgotten your true reason for being here. I had not planned on talking with you about this now, only seeing you, after so long, has caused me to temporarily forget all else," he offered her his arm again.

"Oh, I'll need my companion to come with us as well. He is a mage and is trained in healing spells," she inclined her head towards the door that Xephi had exited only minutes before.

Teagan inclined his head to her, "As you wish, My Lady." He signaled a guard to retrieve the Warden Mage from the hallway.

Xephi returned with a such a sour look on his face she had to wonder if he hadn't heard the whole conversation somehow.

* * *

As soon as she entered the room Selene could feel the black sickness of the taint calling out to her from the limp form on the bed in the center of the room. A mage sat at his side administering a health poultice. Selene let go of Teagan's arm and walked around to the other side of the bed, she laid her hand over Ser Perth's forehead which was burning to the touch. His skin was white and dark circles shadowed his eyes. "Xephi," she said softly and motioned for the Mage to join her.

Xephi checked Ser Perth and frowned. He looked at her and then arched an eyebrow. They both shared the same thought. He hadn't been treated at all, and it seemed that the taint had not spread as far as one would expect. With a shared look that was carefully hidden from the other mage and Teagan they both knew that they had been set up. Someone wanted her here, but for what reason? Whoever it was they wanted Ser Perth to live. He had been infected perhaps a day ago and could probably last a few more days before he fully succumbed. Not (as she was led to believe) almost two weeks ago.

Selene narrowed her eyes at the Knight and then came to a decision, "Xephi, would you be able to stablize him enough for travel?"

Xephi's nodded, seeing her reasoning. "Yes, I could hold back the taint for another week."

The young mage on the other side of Ser Perth scoffed. Xephi gave her a scathing look, "Funny the things they teach us Warden Apostate Mages outside the chantry's justice...how not to be a bumbling idiot for one."

The other mage looked as if he was about to say something equally scathing in reply before Teagan interrupted. "That is enough, Kalis. The Warden mage has personal experience with the taint, I am sure he knows what he is doing."

"Yes, your Grace," the mage stood and bowed, then left the room.

"Arl Teagan, I am afraid that Ser Perth's condition is rather grave. I need to take him to Soldiers Peak and perform the joining there. I cannot perform it here without help from more Warden's, which I did not think I would need. I apologize for not being more prepared," she looked at Teagan and noticed that while he was looking back at her, he would not meet her gaze. _So...this was planned after all. I will get to the bottom of this, and I shall not be marrying a liar! Fool me once, shame on me. But there shall not be a second time!_ She stifled a growl and turned from him so that he could not read the expression on her face.

"Surely, he will not die?" Teagan asked, his tone sincere enough. Perhaps he had not thought that this would go this far. Someone had told him that it would take several days for the taint to take hold. _Another Warden...Alistair. You bastard! What game are the two of you playing?_ As always, however...behind Teagan and behind Alistair...there was Eamon. The way she was brought here, Teagan's proposal, Ser Perth's condition...all obviously planned. How quickly everyone seemed to forget that one of her closest friends is an assassin and taught her a thing or two about traps and manipulation. The first thing she needed to do however, was undo the damage that had been caused. And get the hell out of Redcliffe before she got violent. _How dare he use my feelings for Alistair against me! _

"Not if I can help it, My Lord," she answered his question. "I wonder if I could trouble you for a horse and cart in which to transport him?" she pulled back the covers to reveal Ser Perth in nothing but his small clothes, a knife wound in his thigh bandaged tightly. Blood had seeped from the wound, a deeper shade of red than it should have been due to the taint.

"Xephi, could you heal the wound?" she asked. Her voice was thick with emotion as she wondered, just who had plunged the tainted blade into this brave Knight. She hoped that he had not volunteered. The few bruises and split lip he sported said that he had not gone down without a fight.

Xephi nodded mutely and had placed his hand over the wound in the Knight's upper thigh as he chated a healing spell. Once he was finished the Mage carefully unwrapped the bandage to reveal the healed wound now no more than a scar. "The taint still courses through his body, but at least now the possibility for other infections is minimal," Xephi said...more for the Arl than for her. She knew the taint could not be healed so easily.

"I will make the preparations for your departure," The Arl said and bowed to her once more leaving her and Xephi alone.

"We'll take him to Avernus, then we'll be heading to Denerim," she finally let her urge to growl seep through into her voice.

"Sounds like fun," Xephi replied tonelessly as he applied a cooling balm to Ser Perth's feverish skin.

* * *

**Author's note: So, this is my very first Dragon Age fic. Hope with a little practice and time I'll get better at it. Feedback is welcome and appreciated. I do not as of yet have a beta for the story. Please accept my apologies for my horrendous grammar ahead of time. Have a Happy Valentines Day weekend!**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 2: My Name is Andre**

* * *

They left Redcliffe immediately for Soldiers Peak. Selene alternated riding her horse and riding in the cart with Ser Perth. Xephi managed to reverse the effects enough that the Knight was able to gain consciousness for short periods, enabling him to drink and eat. Thank the Maker.

Selene was sitting with him in the cart on one such occasion when he awoke with a scream, "They seek you! You must run, My Lady!" he cried out before he promptly slid back into unconsciousness.

No sooner had he done so, then Xephi started casting warding spells and tracing paralyzing runes upon the ground around the cart and horses. Selene felt them before she heard them. The whispering that always preceded attack, the disquiet on the air. Her eyes widened, "Ogre!" she shouted in warning.

Niara unsheathed her blades and let out a battle cry, "For the Grey Wardens!" she rushed a cluster of four Genlock rogues heading for the cart. Cyrus fired bolt after bolt into the fray with his crossbow.

Selene looked around frantically for the Ogre that she knew was drawing near, and was rewarded for her patience when it came crashing out of the trees that lined the road ahead of them. She jumped down off the cart and stood, drawing Duncan's sword and Starfang. The Ogre spotted her and crouched low, its yellow eyes narrowing and its mouth dripping with saliva. It let out an enraged roar.

"Come, let us dance you and I," she grinned darkly. The battle lust quickly taking over and pushing all else from her mind. She was a Berserker, she was a Reaver, and she delighted in the dance of battle.

The Ogre charged and so did she, just as it reached her she pivoted to the left. The charge was meant the skewer her with its large horns, but her reflexes allowed her to dodge the deadly protrusions and instead she used them to swing herself up onto its shoulders. In reaction the Ogre stood up to attempt to throw her. Before it could however, she crossed her blades at its throat and pulled...hard. Her blades sliced through muscle tendon and artery, opening the tainted creatures throat and spraying its twisted blood outwards. The beast fell forward and she tuck and rolled off it , landing on her feet like a cat.

Noting that the rest of the darkspawn had been dispatched she surveyed her companions as she wiped her blades on the nearby grass. Niara was already cleaning her blades and Cyrus was checking Ser Perth. Xephi strolled up to her and kicked the Ogre, making sure it was dead. When he was sufficiently satisfied it wasn't going to grab him he raised his eyes to meet hers. "Are all Warden Commanders such terrible show offs? Or is it just you?"

Selene snorted. "I wouldn't be the 'Hero of Ferelden' if I went about being all boring, now would I?"

Xephi made a show of scratching his head and thinking. "Mmm...no. I suppose not."

She looked down at herself and wrinkled her nose, she was dripping with Ogre blood. "Andraste's moth-ridden knickers..._more_ armor cleaning!"

Xephi snickered to himself. Selene swore more than any woman he knew. It was often a great source of delight for him to listen to her mutter when she cleaned her armor.

Selene shook her head and left Xephi to his giggling. "Insufferable..." she muttered. She trudged over to the cart and peeked over the side. Ser Perth seemed unharmed, though unfortunately it seemed that the Ogre's blood spray had also gotten all over him. "Maker's flaming pants!" she growled. "Xephi! I don't suppose you know a cleaning spell?" she called out.

"Can't use magic like that!" he called back cheerfully. "He's your recruit, _you_ can bathe him!"

She looked around and found Niara and Cyrus studiously ignoring her from the backs of their horses.

"Oh...sod!" she swore again...earning more snickers from the Mage. She sighed heavily and looked down at Ser Perth. "Well, handsome. Let's hope you don't choose bath time to wake up."

* * *

They made camp just before sunset. Cyrus and Xephi maneuvered the Knight into his tent. Selene busied herself with cutting wood for the fire and set up of her own tent. She was just about to suggest that she cook when Niara shoved and small wash tub of warm water and a cloth into her hands.

"Commander, we've got everything under control. Go...take care of Ser Perth," she said not unkindly.

Selene sighed inwardly and nodded. She wasn't a teenage girl anymore, she'd seen a naked man before. Besides it wasn't like she'd be taking all his clothes off to wash him. More than anything it was the thought that he might wake up and...well that would be all kinds of awkward. Not to mention that he was rather dashing, and sweet, and had a sexy voice..._and stop it!_

Gathering her courage she ducked into his tent. It was relatively dark but the soft glow from the fire outside allowed her to see what she was doing. Before she reached for the lacing on his shirt she shook him gently. "Ser Perth?" she called softly.

When she received no response she sat down and slipped her arms under his, lifting him into a sitting position. She leaned his chest against hers and then pulled the back of his shirt up and over his head. Once she had the shirt off she laid him back down, then dipped one of the cloths into the warm water. Wringing it out she glanced down at him again. The flickering of the muted firelight highlighted his muscular form, she swallowed as her eyes traced down the rippling abdominal muscles to the light trail of hair below his navel disappearing beneath his trousers. "Makers breath," she whispered and closed her eyes.

When she again opened them she leaned forward and cleaned the blood from his face. His face and neck were cleaned quickly and she worked her way over his chest and broad shoulders. Soon his upper body was cleaned of blood. She dipped the cloth back into the warm water. When she looked back at the Knight her eyes roamed downwards to where the blood had soaked through the legs of his trousers. She groaned inwardly.

With one last look at his face she reached down to the lacing on his trousers and pulled on the tie. Suddenly two masculine hands clasped over her own and her eyes snapped upwards to find Ser Perth looking at her with amusement. "Perhaps I am dreaming this, please tell me that I am not."

She snatched her hands away and could feel her face grow hot, "I'm sorry, I thought you were asleep."

"You have been taking care of me," Ser Perth stated this as a fact, not a question.

"Not just me, Ser Knight. But, yes. I am taking you to Soldiers Peak where we can perform the joining and stop the taint from killing you," she fought to keep the tremble from her voice. Holy Maker was she ever embarrassed.

"Andre," he said suddenly.

"Pardon?" she leaned forward so that she could hear him better. He turned and looked into her eyes.

"My name, My Lady. Its Andre. I understand that Grey Wardens have no titles," he smiled at her and she was certain that he could see her blush.

"Andre then," she said quietly and then chuckled. She gazed down at him with a grin on her face. "Since you've caught me attempting to bathe you, I think it only fair that you stop all this 'My Lady' nonsense and call me Selene. Don't you? After all, I think I remember asking you to do so the first time we met."

"Oh? Pardon my asking then, Selene," he said her name slowly as if trying it out. It sent a shiver down her spine. "Why exactly am I in need of...bathing?"

She winced. "Well, I sort of killed an Ogre next to the cart we've been carrying you in, and you got a bit on you." She jumped when he unexpectedly started laughing.

"Forgive me, Selene. I've just not had the opportunity to see you embarrassed before, its quite becoming," he chuckled.

Selene laughed, "Well then, I must be absolutely stunning then. Since I'm embarrassed most of the time."

His laughter turned into a groan and then a shudder. Selene reached out and put her hand over his forehead, his fever was coming back. "Are you in a great deal of pain?" she asked.

"It feels as though my insides are on fire," he said between gritted teeth.

Selene poked her head out of the tent, "Xephi! I need you!"

Without hesitation Xephi let the bowl of stew he was eating clatter to the ground and he rushed into the tent, sinking to his knees before the knight. He laid a hand on the knight and chanted. A blue light formed where his hands rested on Ser Perth's abdomen and spread outwards to the rest of his body, causing it to glow briefly and then fade once Xephi finished with the spell.

Ser Perth was breathing heavily in shuddering breaths. "Will he make it to the Peak tomorrow?" Selene spoke as she looked up into Xephi's eyes.

"He'll make it. He shouldn't have another attack until tomorrow night, we'll have made it to the fortress long before then. Why are we having Avernus do this again?" Xephi asked.

"He's been stabbed with a tainted blade, I am unsure of how putting him through the joining the normal way will affect him. Avernus had perfected the blood used in the ritual. The last time I saw him I drank some, it...changed me. It wasn't nearly as painful as my first joining. I think it will be safer to do it this way," she admitted.

Xephi looked the Knight over and then nodded. "I think you're right. I don't know if he'd live through a normal joining."

"Do what you can to strengthen him until then," she placed a hand on the Mages forearm and squeezed.

"I will," he offered her a reassuring smile. "Now, Mother Hen. You should go get something to eat before you faint."

As if in answer Selene's stomach growled. She looked down at Andre. "I'm going to leave you with Xephi, for now."

"Will you come back? I should like to speak with you further...if My Lady does not mind," he asked quietly.

"Certainly, and its Selene. Or Commander," she offered him a smile and then ducked out of the tent.

Left alone with Ser Perth, Xephi grinned down at the Knight. "Well, now I know what her type is."

"I'm sorry?" Ser Perth looked at the Mage as though he'd grown another head.

"The Commander is one of the few women I've ever known that doesn't blush when I tease her, in fact it just makes her laugh. She's great, really. She never gets angry with me, accepts me for who I am. She cares, but she doesn't let anyone in either. I've tried to get close to her and I've gotten no where. Not even a blush. Now you come in, all manners and chivalry and she's suddenly nervous and fidgety. I caught her blushing several times when the rest of us refused to wash the blood off you," he folded his arms over his chest.

"So you are saying that she...is attracted to me?" Ser Perth croaked out. "Makers breath!" he exclaimed softly.

"You hurt her and I'll turn you into a toad," Xephi growled.

"I would never-," the Knight started to say indignantly and was interrupted by Xephi's raised hand.

"The King said the same thing, and as soon as that Crown was on his head he tossed her aside. Just because Grey Wardens can't have children. She thinks we don't all know, but Grey Wardens protect their own. I'm not saying you should stay away. I'm saying you should do the honorable thing and make sure your intentions are clear... for both of you. _Before_ you try getting close to her. If that's what you _do_ intend," Xephi finished.

"I shall think on what you have said, now if you don't mind...I'm feeling tired," Andre laid back down but did not close his eyes.

"Sure...I'll just perform a few more spells to strengthen your constitution and I'll be done," he set about his spell work and when he was finished he mumbled a 'good evening' to the knight and ducked out of the tent.

* * *

Selene was sitting on a log in front of the camp fire staring into the flames, a half-eaten bowl of stew cradled in her lap. Xephi plopped down on the log next to her and folded his arms over his chest. "So," he said conversationally.

Selene jumped as if she hadn't realized he'd been sitting next to her. "So?" she raised an eyebrow at him when a grin spread acrossed his face.

"You like him," he stated with a teasing tone.

Selene sputtered and blushed, then scowled. "Andraste's ass! You'd think after months of sharing a Fortress with _you_, I'd never blush again!"

Xephi laughed, "Exactly, you've blushed more since we've picked up that sodding pretty boy Knight than I've ever seen you. I'm quite put out!" he pouted comically.

"Aw, have I hurt your feelings?" she cooed, then reached out and pinched his cheek.

Xephi batted her hand away with a black scowl, "Just you be careful, is all. We all want you to be happy. You deserve a little happiness. Maker knows you haven't had much of that," he finished.

"I'm happy enough," Selene tried to smile but it felt false and must have looked doubly so because Niara snorted from acrossed the fire.

"No, you're 'too busy'. You take care of everyone in Amaranthine, you keep just occupied enough not to be lonely. You surround yourself with people yet I'm sure you can only name two or three you can truly call 'friend'. Never mind having yourself a male companion, or female for that matter," Niara mumbled the last sentence.

Cyrus chuckled at the shocked look on Selene's face. "Face it Commander, you're an island. Some of us might be able to hop on a ferry and come visit for awhile, but you don't let us stay for very long."

Niara rolled her eyes skyward, "Just think about it, is all we ask. Letting people in...it isn't always a bad thing. Besides, what does that say about the fearsome 'Hero of Ferelden'? You can spit in the Archedemon's eye, but you can't take a willing man to bed?"

Cyrus was laughing again and Xephi was snickering again.

"Well, I'm glad you all think this is _so_ funny," Selene laughed a little. "Alright, alright...I get it. I'll think on what you've said. Now...can we please...talk about something _else_?" she groaned.

"Well, I for one would like to offer my services, Commander. After all...I am a _man_. And you're...heh...a woman-" he slipped an arm around her.

"Sorry, Xephi. I think I'll take my chances with someone who doesn't try to put his ship into every port

he sails by," she chuckled and shrugged his arm off.

"Fine, fine...but you'll know where I'll be if you change you're mind!" he said cheerfully.

She set her bowl down, deciding that she would take care of it tomorrow. "I'm going to go check on Andre, then I'm turning in."

When she was gone Niara turned to Cyrus, "I thought his name was Perth?"

"That's his last name, I think," Cyrus mumbled as he glanced over at Xephi whom was in turn watching the Warden Commander duck into the Knight's tent.

* * *

Once inside the tent Selene knelt by Ser Perth's side. Noticing that he was awake and staring up at the ceiling of the tent, seemingly deep in thought, she took a moment to peruse him. His hair was still the same color auburn that she remembered, only a little bit longer than the last time she saw him. His face still seemed chiseled from the finest marble. She looked down over his chest and felt her cheeks flame again, and when she let her eyes wander lower she saw his chest hitch and heard his sharp intake of breath. Her eyes snapped to his face and she realized she'd been caught looking at him.

He was looking at her now, his eyes widened a fraction. Mistaking the reaction for something having to do with his illness she leaned forward and laid the back of her fingers against his forehead gently, checking for fever. He felt a little warm, but nowhere near as warm as before. She smiled faintly in relief. Taking the opportunity, she let her fingers ghost over his temple before pulling them back slowly. She was surprised when he gently took her hand and brought it down to his lips, he brushed them lightly over her skin and she bit her lip. "You looked so deep in thought, just now. I'm sorry-,"

"There's no need to apologize," his smooth voice was like a spring breeze, warm and inviting. He did not let go of her hand but instead held it to his chest and closed his eyes.

"I should let you get some rest," she tried to keep her voice from trembling as she concentrated on the gentle pressure of his hand closed over her own.

"No," he turned his head towards her and looked at her meaningfully. "I've spent too long alone. Stay...just until I fall asleep."

Selene surveyed the expression on Ser Perth's face...he seemed torn between being a gentleman and needing human contact. She could understand that feeling, when she had lost her parents she'd traveled with Duncan to Ostagar. Duncan (as kind as he was) wasn't much of a conversationalist. He offered his condolences, and made sure she was taken care of. He answered her questions well enough, but by the time that she had met Alistair she'd been starved to talk openly with someone. So much so that she had asked him a million questions before she would agree to go back to the fire where Duncan waited for them.

"Alright, I'll stay," she said softly.

His grip on her hand loosened a bit but he did not let her go. "I fear that I have been used as bait, My Lady," his tone was bitter.

"I gathered as much. Do you know why?" she shifted so that her knees were no longer under her. She thanked the Maker that she had taken off her Armor already to clean it.

"No, I was on duty one night and I was attacked by hooded figures, one of them plunged a dagger into my leg and then I was knocked unconscious. The Bann...I mean, Arl Teagan...he was there when I came to. I do not know how long I lie there bleeding. Chancellor Eamon was present, I was too disoriented to understand what they were talking about. I do however, remember overhearing your name," he squeezed her hand. "Please know, My Lady. I would never have taken part in any scheme aimed at hurting you, in any way. You've done so much for the people of my village, you deserve honor and respect. Not manipulation and betrayal."

"You are a good man, Andre," she emphasized his name to indicate that he was still calling her 'My Lady', "I know you would never do something like this. It just saddens me that of the three men that I had trusted throughout the civil war and the blight, none of them have proven worthy of that trust."

"Promise me something...Selene," he said suddenly.

"If it is within my power," she replied honestly.

"Do not marry the Arl. He might indeed care for you, but his loyalties are to Eamon first. Anyone else will always come second. Whatever his intentions, you deserve to come first," he trained his eyes on her again and in the firelight the normally crystalline blue eyes appeared gray, like the sea in a storm.

"A promise easily made, then," she smiled when he seemed to relax. "Anything attached to Eamon comes with...conditions. Teagan is too close to Eamon and the King, a situation that I have...distanced myself from. I am no longer a noble, it is a part of my life that I decided to leave behind long ago. Whatever Eamon's...insanity. I've no wish to take part in it. Grey Wardens are neutral, no doubt Eamon has been told that. Otherwise he might have approached me himself, for whatever plan it is he needs me for. As it is, its probably something that I'm not likely to agree to, so he seeks to secure my loyalties through marriage," she growled.

"You've no feelings towards Arl Teagan, then?" he asked with a note of interest.

"I felt friendship, certainly. Before I saw your condition, I might have continued to believe that he is a man that my Father would have wanted me to marry. The Cousland's have always stood for what is right, believing in courage, honor and justice above all else. Knowing what I know now, my Father would not have approved of Teagan, so I can do no less," she finished.

"That is...good to know," Ser Perth said, then yawned.

Selene chuckled, "Rest, no more talking."

It was not long before Ser Perth's breathing turned shallow and even, an indication that he had fallen asleep. She looked down at her hand, realizing that it was still trapped against his chest in a firm grip.

The sight made her traitorous stomach flutter. Perhaps, she _was_ lonelier than she thought. She sighed and carefully detached herself from the sleeping man. "Sweet dreams, Ser Knight. After tomorrow they are likely to be far and few between," she murmured sadly.

* * *

When she exited the tent she found Niara sitting by the fire, evidently she had drawn first watch. "Well, were he not so sick I might be asking you many, many expertly pointed questions."

Selene smiled sadly, "Alas, my fellow Warden. I think that my love life is interesting enough. I thank you for thinking of me, however."

Niara tilted her head to the side, "Oh, Arl Teagan's proposal. I'd almost forgotten."

"How did you-," she cast a glare at Xephi's tent. "Nevermind, I know how you found out."

Niara laughed, "He likes you, Xephi I mean, surprisingly he cares for you. I think maybe because you don't give in to him, like so many other women. Perhaps its some sort of weird test of sorts. If you can resist then you're worth having?" she finished speculatively.

"Ah well, we can see how well that strategy is working out for him," Selene snorted.

"Back to Teagan then, Commander. Men aren't _all_ like that...sure there are more than a few fools out there. But you've only had two romantic prospects in your whole life. Both from the same family. Perhaps you ought to cast your net a bit wider, before you give up, yes?" she smiled at Selene.

Selene nodded. "You're right, you know...I never thought of it like that. Teagan and Alistair, mixed up in that whole royal..._thing. _Maybe I should just make an 'I don't date royalty' rule," she said mockingly.

After a moment of silence she sighed. "I apologize Niara, its just everyone has been nagging at me about my love life for almost a week now. To be honest I'd rather just be left alone about it. Not that I don't appreciate that you're all concerned for me and wish me to be happy. However, I don't need a love life to be happy. Someone once told me that beauty and love are fleeting and have no meaning. I've come to believe that," she stretched her back and yawned. "I'll take second watch, wake me when its time."

"Yes, Commander," she said seriously.

Selene winced, she may have been a bit harsh. Instead of apologizing further however, she ducked into her own tent and laid down on her bedroll. Sleep overtook her fast, and in the fade she dreamed of tall Knights with blue eyes.

* * *

**Author's note: I hadn't actually planned on having the next chapter done so soon, but it seems that I started writing and couldn't stop. I hope its come out alright and that you enjoy it. **


	3. Chapter 3

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction **

**By Bionca Femme**

**Disclaimer: As always I own nothing...with the exception of my ooc's. =)**

**Chapter 3: Soldiers Peak, Avernus and a surprise**

* * *

It was near midday when they reached the entrance to the tunnels that led into the fortress, Ser Perth had spent the morning sleeping. Thank the Maker for small favors. When Selene's small party had come to a halt before the tunnel entrance they were greeted by a pair of Warden Guards.

"Hail Commander!" they said in unison crossing their forearms over their chests and bowing.

Selene dismounted and did the same. "Greetings brothers! I bring to our fold a new recruit. Could one of you run up to the fortress and retrieve a stretcher? Also, alert Avernus of my arrival. Tell him that I am in dire need of his help, and he'd better be ready when I get to his laboratory," her tone brooked no argument from either of them.

They exchanged worried glances. "Yes, Commander!" they bowed to her again and the one on the right hurried off into the tunnel system.

Selene smiled inwardly as she was reminded of her decision to not have the mountain pass cleared, despite Alistair's suggestion that she do so when she left Denerim. He wanted to come and visit the Grey Warden stronghold nearest him at his convenience. However, Selene had told him he was no longer an active Warden, he was King. Thus he didn't need to know the location. If any of his future line were to become tyrants she did not want the way to the Keep to be easy to find. No one, outside of the Wardens themselves or the Dryden family was to know the way through the tunnels. When Alistair complained that he didn't know the way in the first place because she didn't take him the first time, her smile had been smug and even...a little evil. "What you don't know now, can't be tortured out of you later," she had told him.

She made an oath to the Wardens that she would not let their numbers die out in Ferelden again, an oath that she meant to keep. With three fortresses in Ferelden to garrison, she would always keep Soldiers Peak Wardens on reserve. They were the last line of defense against the darkspawn.

She glanced over the side of the cart and looked Ser Perth over, he was still asleep. Renewed anger at the one she had once called lover burned in her veins. _'How could he!?'_ she fumed again. She had expected a certain amount of foolishness from him as a new King, having never governed anything before and then having a whole country dumped on him, there was certainly an expected learning curve. But to betray everything that the Grey Wardens believed, to betray their most basic function...to protect. Infecting someone with the taint was...madness. It was a level of cruelty she would never have thought Alistair capable of. She hoped that he knew nothing of this, she prayed to the Maker that he did not. Because by Andraste's sanctified _ass_ if she found out that he did, she was going to make him sorry he ever left the Chantry.

When the stretcher and two more Wardens arrived they all pitched in to unload the horses and move Ser Perth. Niara and Cyrus unhooked the last horse from the cart and rolled the cart off the side of the ravine near the tunnel entrance. No one would find it down there. The tunnels were cleared out enough now that one could lead horses in single file, the stables had been repaired so they brought their mounts with them.

As soon as she emerged from the tunnels into the courtyard she was met by Levi. "Hello again, Warden! You're looking well, how goes things in Amaranthine?"

Selene favored him with a smile and clasped hands with the merchant in greeting. "Levi! Andraste's blood, look at what you've done with the place! You're doing a wonderful job as caretaker," she beamed at him.

"Well...I...uh...thank you, Commander," he flushed. "Still haven't heard much out of Avernus, a couple of the young fella's you sent up here went to give him your message a moment ago, when they came back they said he was still alive. No rest for the wicked I suppose."

Selene chuckled, "Good, I need to get this recruit up to see him, but once we've done the joining I want you to join me and the rest of the Wardens for supper. I want to hear about everything you've been doing while I was away."

Levi flushed again and then nodded, thanking her. She watched him go with a warm feeling in her heart that chased away the previous anger. Of all the people she helped over the past months, Levi had turned out to be one of the finest. Even after finding out his great-grandmother had turned into an abomination and had participated in a rebellion, he still remained loyal to the Grey Wardens. He stayed on and supplied the keep, and in return he and his family only asked for some extra storage space. Within the six months that she was away, more people had come pouring in. Some for the opportunity to serve the Wardens, some for the opportunity to become Wardens.

The Keep had originally been built by Warden Commander Asturian. He had meant for it to be a city within itself. It gladdened her heart that his vision was quickly on its way to being realized. How she wished that Duncan were here to see this.

When her small party had reached the top of the steps she was greeted by the Warden she had put in charge. The position being "Watcher of the Keep" or "Watcher" for short. Argus was the Watcher for Amaranthine. Rilyn was Watcher of Soldiers Peak. "Watcher Rilyn," she greeted.

The Dalish Warden smiled widely and crossed his arms over his chest, bowing. "Commander Selene, it is an honor to have you here," his almond shaped hazel eyes fell on Ser Perth. "So this is the Knight that you've brought for the joining?"

Selene nodded, "Yes, I'm having Avernus help me with this one, he's quite ill."

"Well, when you're done with this joining I hope you won't mind attending a few more?" he smiled widely.

"More? You've been getting recruits here as well? How are they finding their way?" she asked worriedly.

"We have a patrol go down to the base of the mountain once a week. When we get there we usually find five or six men and women camped out down there. We blindfold them and bring them up. They aren't allowed to leave until they go through the ritual," he said.

"And what about all these other people?" she swept her arm outward to indicate the number of people who were definitely not Wardens.

"Well, the Dryden family is the exception to the rule. Half of what you see out there is them. Their like rabbitts," he wrinkled his nose and then continued. "The other half know they can't leave, nor do they want to. Their needs are seen to, no one goes hungry and everyone has a chance to rebuild their lives. Most of them lost loved ones to darkspawn in the Denerim invasion," he finished sadly.

Selene blinked. "The safest place to hide from darkspawn being a Grey Warden fortress?"

"I think that's the general idea," Rilyn laughed bitterly. "From outlaws to heroes in less than a year. Isn't it wonderful how things work out?" he looked down at Ser Perth again. "I'll not keep you from Avernus any longer. I'll have the new recruits assembled in the morning. Andaran atish'an, Commander."

"Ma serranas, Rilyn," Selene offered the bowing salute with a smile and watched as the lithe Dalish Warden bounded down the stairs to converse with Levi.

* * *

Avernus's Tower had not changed, with the exception of the corpses that were hanging from the wall the last time she'd been there. Those were gone, thank the Maker.

"Ahh...Commander. I'll be right down. Just let me finish these notations," Avernus's aging voice came from the top of his stairs in the same bitter tone it had when she'd initially met him.

When he appeared she saw the same man that she had met six months ago. She didn't know why she expected that he would somehow shrivel in on himself like some fairy tale villain. But she was rather glad that he was in good enough health to help her now. "Greetings, Avernus. You're looking well," she forced her voice to remain friendly even as he sneered at her halfway through her greeting. The secret to dealing with Avernus was to pretend that he was wonderful company. At the very least you would never appear to have been the rude one.

"As well as one can, being crippled by other people's morals," he hissed. "So...this is the young Knight who we'll be inducting into our sacred order? How marvelous," he commented sarcastically.

"Yes, this is Ser Perth. I was hoping with your help we might have a better chance of his surviving the joining. As you can see, he's been infected with the taint," she said matter of factly.

Avernus stepped down from the platform and clasped his hands behind his back. He leaned down to peer at Ser Perth. He felt the Knights forehead and then stooped further forward and picked up the young man's wrist. His eyes closed and he seemed to be counting as he held his thumb against Ser Perth's pulse. "Yes, I can see what you mean. With my research he'll have an increased chance of survival, but not by a large margin. There is still a chance that he might not make it through the night. It will be incredibly painful...not as much as some joining's, but painful enough," he let the Knight's wrist drop and he narrowed his eyes at her. "I need an hour to prepare. Leave _that _fool with me, he can assist in the preparations," he pointed at Xephi without looking at him.

"Hey!" Xephi huffed indignantly.

Selene gave the young mage her best stern look. Earning a mumble of acquiescence. "I'll take Ser Perth with me for now, Avernus. Just send Xephi when you're ready for the ritual," she inclined her head to the old mage and motioned to the Wardens carrying Ser Perth to follow her.

* * *

The Wardens carrying the sickened knight were noticeably relieved when she led them to her chambers. The room was large with an antechamber for bathing. It reminded her in fact of her room in Highever. Even though her stone bathtub was in her room, not in an adjoining room. The bed however, was just as big and someone had taken great care while she was away to make the room feel welcoming. A fire was started in the hearth to take the chill off the room.

Before the two Wardens left she asked them if they could have another room made up for Ser Perth. One of them winced and said that with the influx of recruits, most had taken to sleeping in the stables or using bedrolls and sleeping in the Main Hall to keep warm. Levi was waiting for a few of his cousins who were furniture makers to come within a few weeks. It could be months before there were adequate beds for everyone.

"I see," she replied with a sigh. "No matter, he'll stay here. Thank you for bringing him all this way."

They saluted her and then left her alone with the Knight. She sat down on the bed next to him and reached out a hand to smooth his auburn locks from his forehead. "Well Andre, it seems I have yet another embarrassing moment to look forward to."

Ser Perth's eyes opened slowly to find her staring down at him with a smile. "It seems I still live, are we at Soldiers Peak?" he asked.

"Yes, the ritual is being prepared now. They'll send someone when they are ready for us," she took his hand and held it in both of hers. "How are you feeling?"

"No worse, though no better. Though I suppose this is something that you don't really get better from on your own," he mused.

Selene shook her head. "No, there's no way to fight this illness without becoming a Grey Warden. I am sorry."

"Sorry? Maker have mercy...I am lucky to have a chance to serve a woman as brave and true as you, My Lady. I am not sorry that this happened, only at the circumstances that led to this," he gestured to his body.

"I should tell you now, if you survive the joining you're life expectancy is only thirty more years," she squeezed his hand gently.

"Sounds wonderful," he said sincerely. "What happens once those thirty years are up?"

"The Clarion Call. Its a nice way of saying that Grey Wardens choose suicide in the deep roads rather than suffer as the taint eats away at their sanity," her voice was thick with emotion. "I wish there was some other way."

He detached his hand from hers and brought it up to her cheek, the pad of his thumb wiped away a tear that she hadn't realized she had shed. "As long as you let me stay at your side, where I can serve and protect you, it seems a perfectly acceptable way to die, My lady."

She gave him a watery smile. "There you go again, being entirely too formal."

Rather than answer he looked around the room and then back at her again. "Is this my room?"

Her smile fell off her face and she blushed. "Actually, this is my room. They didn't have any beds elsewhere and I don't want you sleeping on the floor," her gaze dropped to her hands to avoid his eyes.

"Once this is over I'll find some other place to sleep," he said firmly.

"No, you will _not_!" she lifted her eyes to his and folded her arms stubbornly. "You'll need to recover. I'll not have you sleeping on the cold stone floor or catching your death of cold out in the stables. I did not go through all this only to have you die of a chill!"

A knock at the door cut off Ser Perth's retort, and he shot her a look that said 'this isn't over!' before she smiled triumphantly and went to answer it. When Selene opened the door she found Xephi and Avernus outside of it.

"We're ready. We talked it over and we agreed it was for the best if we do the ritual wherever it is that pretty boy plans on passing out," he said.

Selene pulled the door open and gestured for them to come in. Xephi looked confused until he saw Ser Perth laid out on her bed. "What? He's staying in here?" he asked her incredulously

"Yes," she stated simply as both Mages stepped over the threshold. She shut the door behind them and noticed that Avernus had brought a bag with him.

"Let's get this over with so that I can go back to my research," Avernus interrupted testily. He set the bag on the bedside table.

"I agree," Selene moved to the opposite side of the bed. "Andre, you'll need to sit up," she stooped forward and helped him into a sitting position. When she straightened she glanced at Avernus who was now holding a Chalice filled with his version of the ritual blood. She turned to Xephi who was standing at the foot of the bed. She cleared her throat, "We speak only a few words before the ritual, but these words have been spoken since the first Wardens drank of darkspawn blood...and mastered their taint. Xephi...if you would?"

Xephi nodded and they all bowed their heads. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn, and should you perish..know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day...we shall join you."

Avernus stepped forward and handed the chalice to Ser Perth. This is where he would have been called forward. "Join us, Andre," Avernus said solemnly. For which Selene was grateful, her heart was in her throat and she didn't trust herself to speak further.

With one last look at Selene, Ser Perth took the chalice in both hands and tilted the cup to his lips, drinking deeply. He quickly handed the chalice back to Avernus and then doubled over. Selene rushed to his side as he groaned and shuddered in pain. When he finally cried out his head snapped up and his eyes were white. Xephi (having never been in on anyone's joining but his own) gasped.

Ser Perth cried out one more time and then closed his eyes, when he opened them again they were normal. He slumped against her, passed out from the pain.

Avernus picked up Ser Perth's wrist once more and then felt his forehead. When he stood he looked satisfied. "It's over, he'll live. He needs rest," he looked her over and narrowed his eyes. "So do you."

She smiled faintly and laid Ser Perth back against her pillows. "Thank you Avernus," she said softly.

The old Maleficar grunted and then grabbed Xephi by the arm, "Come with me, you can help clean up the tower."

"Why me?" Xephi grumbled, but dropped her a wink before the door closed behind them.

When they were gone Selene looked down at Ser Perth and wondered if she could get away with taking a short bath. Duncan and Alistair had been there waiting for her to wake up when she had her joining, she left no recruit to wake up on their own since. She had made sure of it. She sighed, she was tired and she felt uncomfortable sitting on the bed in her armor.

"Well, there's nothing for it, I suppose," she mumbled. She stood and started peeling her armor from her body. Once it was off she hung it on the armor stand and wrinkled her nose as she got a whiff of herself. Her shirt and trousers clung to her with grime and sweat. She walked over to the door and pulled the cord that led to a bell in the kitchen area.

Within moments there was a small knock, she opened the door to find a terrified looking maid on the other side. "Well, hello there," she said pleasantly, trying to put the maid at ease.

The maid offered a tiny smile in return. "Is there something that I can get for you, Commander?" she asked.

"Could you have some hot water brought up so that I might bathe?" she asked hopefully.

"Oh! Certainly Ma'am!" the maid smiled wider. She was petite and round faced with blond hair. She seemed all of fifteen. "Would you like some bath oils and soaps brought up for you, My Lady?"

Selene blinked, it had been quite awhile since she had allowed herself the luxury. "That would be wonderful, thank you."

The maid smiled again brightly and then curtsied scurrying off to retrieve the water and soaps. It was not long before several maids returned and Selene was baffled by their efficiency. They seemed genuinely happy to be there as well. Perhaps life in the smaller villages and townships was worse than she had thought. She would have to ask Watcher Rilyn if he had any reports of darkspawn activity in the outlying towns. If so she was going to have to send out more patrols.

When the maids were gone she entered the bathing chamber and pulled off her clothes. She picked up one of the glass vials that the maids had brought and took out the cork. Holding it to her nose she was greeted by the smell of roses and Andraste's grace. She put it down hastily as it brought up too many memories. The second vial smelled of hyacinth and lilac, it was sweet but not overpowering. She tipped some into the water and then put it aside. Testing the temperature before she got in, she slid into the water with a satisfied purr of contentment. How she had missed languishing in a hot bath. Often she would bring one of her grandfather's treasured books from the study with her and read while she soaked. A past time her Mother had scolded her for often, as the books were a family legacy and would be ruined if she dropped one in the water.

She let herself soak for a little bit, but not for too long. She was confident that the Knight in her bed would soon wake up. She pulled the plug from the bottom of the stone basin and got out. The chill air hit her almost immediately and she shivered. Taking a towel from the table in the room she dried off and wrapped it around herself.

Peeking around the corner and seeing he was still asleep, she tiptoed over to her changing screen and ducked behind it. There was a dresser back there and she tried to slowly open the top drawer without making any noise. Much to her dismay it squealed in protest. "Sod!" she swore quietly.

A chuckle from across the room made her stick her head out to check her guest. Who was sitting up on the bed now, watching the changing screen with interest...and amusement.

"Oh, you're awake," she said happily. "How are you feeling? I'm sorry I woke you."

"No need to apologize. It was quite charming the way you scampered behind that screen," he smiled at her.

Selene sputtered and ducked back behind the screen. "You're teasing!" she laughed.

Another laugh, "Perhaps."

Selene pulled on a black pair of black trousers and a light white tunic. She stepped out from behind the screen, barefooted and her short chestnut colored hair still wet. She ran a hand through it nervously. "You didn't tell me how you were feeling," she prompted.

"Surprisingly well, actually. The pain is totally gone, I feel rested. Is it normal to be this hungry?" he asked.

Selene threw her head back and laughed. "Yes, I do believe you're going to be just fine. It is normal, yes."

He grinned at her and then stood up. After stretching he passed a hand over his face and felt the stubble that had grown since his illness. "Is there somewhere I might be able to clean up, _myself_?"

She blushed as his teasing tone clearly referred to when he'd caught her attempting to wash him. "Well, you're welcome to bathe...though I'll have to have more water sent up."

He nodded, "That would be most appreciated."

"I'll just ring the kitchen then and have them send up some water," she said happily

"And by any chance, some clean clothes?" he added.

"Yes, of course," she grinned. He'd been stuck in those same clothes for a week now.

The maids were again quite quick about getting more heated water brought up. Ser Perth

quickly removed his shirt and asked that they wash it. His trousers were a lost cause, having been sullied too thoroughly with darkspawn blood. Though Xephi had washed them in the stream the stains were there to stay. The shirt might be salvageable however. When the maids left the room she had just turned to ask him a question before he went into the bathing chamber, when she was interrupted by another knock on the door.

Only it wasn't just knocking, it was the sound of a gauntleted fist rapping impatiently on someones door. Selene frowned. "Hold that thought," she said to Ser Perth and dropped him a saucy wink, laughing when he blushed.

She went over to the door and threw it open, only to be greeted by the one person whom she hoped she would never have to look at again. King Alistair was leaning against the doorway, a grin on his face and a look in his eyes that used to start a fire in her belly.

"What?" he chuckled at her shocked face. "Don't I even get a hello?"

* * *

**Author's note: In the immortal words of Zevran, "Ohh, this should be good." Have any suggestions on how our Warden Commander should react? Review...please?**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 4: When the chance presents itself**

* * *

Selene narrowed her eyes at the King, "I thought I deliberately avoided telling you where the Keep was for a reason, your Majesty."

Alistair's heated gaze changed into a mischievous one. "Yeah, funny that. You'd think you were hiding from me, or something."

Selene's face remained like stone. "Hiding? No. Avoiding? Yes," she let her words drop like chips of ice.

"Wow, that's not the welcome I thought I'd get," he chuckled.

"Welcome? Just what sort of welcome would you like, your Highness?" she spat.

Alistair's teasing tone and amused expression was fading fast as he realized that she may be still upset with him over ending things. "Well, for one you can use my name. Its _Alistair_, you should remember, you screamed it often enough," he stated bitterly.

"_Excuse_ me?!" she near shouted. "The mere fact that you _are_ King is the reason your entrails are on the inside of your armor, instead of all over the floor! Now," she took a step toward him, her eyes blazing and her breathing sped up, "you are going to go to my study, where I will meet with you. You have some explaining to do _Warden_ Alistair. Some things came to my attention at Redcliffe that I believe you're involved in."

"Now seems as good a time as any, I have things I'd like to discuss with you too," he said angrily but took a step back all the same. He'd seen that look in her eye before.

"Right now, is not a good time," she growled. She had all but forgotten Ser Perth, not only did she not care to have what would certainly be an emotional conversation in front of him, but she was starting to feel her anger and her resolve crumble. Without those she would be crying shortly, and that just would not do. She was supposed to be strong, fearless, untouchable. The day he pushed her aside was the last time she cried... there was no doubt in her mind that if she started now she would not stop. Alistair didn't deserve her tears, at least he didn't deserve to see them.

Alistair looked about to say something in retort when Selene felt a masculine hand slip around her waist. Selene looked downward and blinked until she realized that the hand belonged to Ser Perth. He pressed his chest against her back and opened the door to reveal himself, bare chested, and hair mussed in a fetching way. Her mouth dropped open a fraction as she looked up into his face.

He smiled down at her, "There you are, I was beginning to think you were going to let me bathe alone."

"Oh, well...I...uh..." she stumbled to find anything remotely appropriate to say to salvage the situation, but everything seemed to be going to the loo in a hurry. She turned back to Alistair to find him looking at Ser Perth with a raised eyebrow, exactly the same look he'd given Riordan when the older Warden asked her to spare Teryn Loghaine's life.

Ser Perth (_Maker bless him!) _saved her from having to answer. He inclined his head to Alistair, "Your Majesty, this is a pleasant surprise! It's good to see you again," he said cheerfully. He turned to Selene and kissed her on the forehead, "Are you ready, my love?"

Selene swallowed hard as she looked from Alistair to Ser Perth and back again. Finally the sneer on Alistair's face restarted the angry fire in her belly, the very place where her Berserker rage came from. This was not the time to be embarrassed, nor was it the time to appear weak. Now was the time to fight, only this time...she fought for her dignity.

"Yes, darling. I'll be right there," she smiled at Ser Perth lovingly. She was surprised in fact to find in that moment that the smile did not feel the least bit fake. He gave her a final squeeze and disappeared into the room again, but she could tell that he had not gone far. He was nearby, in case she needed him.

"Yes, I can see _exactly_ what Castle Redcliffe had that was _so_ interesting," Alistair hissed.

She looked into Alistair's face and found anger...and betrayal. "I'll be in my study in an hour," she said hollowly. Without giving Alistair a chance to answer she stepped back into her room and shut the door.

When she heard the Kings footsteps head away from her door she leaned her head against the cool wood and drew a shuddering breath. The tears she knew would come, did. This time she would not hold them back. She did not give in to sobbing however, just a quiet mourning for the loss of her innocence to someone ignorant of the consequences of breaking a woman's heart. She gasped as she was pulled into a pair of masculine arms. Her face pressed to Ser Perth's chest, she breathed in the smell of man and an odd spicy scent that reminded her of cinnamon.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she realized that she was getting him soaked with tears.

"Hush, sweet Lady. There is no need for apologies, I only hope that now you can put him behind you," he said softly.

"Yes, you're right. I do need to get this behind me," she sniffed and wiped the tears from her face. "I can't be an emotional wreck in front of my men, now can I?"

"Neither can you move on with another if you still hold on to your love for the King," Ser Perth murmured.

"I doubt that anyone truly wants anything to do with me anyway, Andre. Teagan's proposal was prompted by Eamon. You know that. A Warden's life can be lonely..." her breath hitched involuntarily and she blushed. She started to pull away only to be pulled back against him.

"It needn't be," his voice sounded raw and was deeper. She tilted her face upwards to look into his eyes and suddenly his lips were pressed against hers. They were soft as silk and they were gone too soon. He pulled back and looked into her face, searching for a reaction.

Her eyes fluttered open which surprised her because she hadn't even been aware that she had closed them. "Andre?" she whispered in question. "This isn't...I'm not sure...what I mean to say is...I can't have my heart broken again," her heart ached as did the rest of her. She desperately wanted him to kiss her again but couldn't bring herself to admit that she was falling for the handsome knight.

"I've thought of nothing but you since you saved Redcliffe from the undead, Selene," he murmured and pulled her tighter against him. "I knew then that should I ever have the chance to court you, I would not let that chance slip away. Now here I am and that chance presents itself. I would sooner die than hurt you...perhaps you've heard that before...I don't know. However, I swear before the Maker and his beloved Andraste, that I would never push you away. Would you let me court you, My Lady?" his blue eyes held her hazel ones captive.

She found herself nodding without a second thought and her heart pounded in her chest in a wonderfully new, yet familiar way. His lips were once again descending upon hers and she felt as if she could fly.

* * *

An hour later Selene left her chambers and headed for her study. Andre had insisted on coming with her but she ordered him to stay put. She would be back to collect him for supper. He was quite unhappy but as he was also her subordinate so he could hardly disobey a direct order. Though he did grumble on about it quite a bit and tried to convince her not to go with more kisses. She chuckled to herself as she was reminded of the awkward conversation about how their relationship would proceed.

Of course the whole business about them having to share a room would be...complicated. But he promised that he would be a gentleman and would let her set the pace. Which meant kissing, perhaps a little cuddling but most likely nothing more...at least for awhile. She wasn't ready for more than that, not yet. She had yet to put Alistair fully behind her. She prayed to the Maker that this meeting would allow her to do just that.

She reached her study door and pushed it open unceremoniously to find Alistair standing by the fire and an unhappy looking Wynne sitting in one of the two chairs in front of her desk.

"Oh, there you are my dear," Wynne looked worried as she stood and crossed the room, she drew Selene into her arms and hugged her tightly.

"Wynne," Selene hugged her back just as tightly. "What manner of trickery did his Highness use to convince you to bring him here?"

Wynne pulled away from her and gave her a stern look, "Oh no, young lady. Don't drag me into it. I know you two are having your troubles, but this goes far beyond the two of you. Now, if you don't mind I'm going to sit back down. These old bones need a rest," she patted Selene's cheek affectionately and sat down.

Selene sighed and followed suit, taking her seat behind the desk. Looking up at Alistair who seemed to debate whether or not to stand and seeing her raised eyebrow decided to sit.

"Well, now that we're all here...why don't we get out the facts shall we?" Selene asked in a diplomatic tone.

Wynne cast a sideways glance at Alistair who was now sitting with his arms and legs crossed and a petulant look on his face. She shook her head and turned back to Selene. "Well dear, let me start by telling you that we believe that there is a conspiracy afoot within the Landsmeet."

At this Selene's eyebrows flew upwards and she leaned forward in her chair, resting her elbows on her desk. She was glad that she had not put her armor back on. "Oh? Does this have anything to do with Arl Teagan proposing to me?" she asked.

"Maker's breath...you _do_ get around, don't you?" Alistair chimed in angrily.

"Alistair!" Wynne's face turned shocked and pale.

"Not that it's any business of yours, your _Highness_. However, Ser Perth perceived your presence as threatening and thus the reason for his behavior," she kept her tone even and cold. "Though we may pursue a relationship in the future, we had not even discussed such until your abrupt arrival."

"What was he _doing_ in your room anyway?" Alistair demanded.

"We've no suitable rooms for him to have recovered in, he's using mine. He just awoke from the joining. Not that its any business of yours, you lost the right to question me about my life months ago, Alistair. Or have you forgotten that the reason you have no right to me is entirely your own fault?" Selene hated the way her voice sounded empty and devoid of sympathy, but then again he'd not given her any. Why should she afford him the same courtesy?

Alistair's face was the one gone pale now, "No," he said and then turned away from her, "I haven't forgotten."

"Neither have I," Selene said coldly and then turned back to Wynne. "I received a letter from Alistair a week ago. He bade me go to Redcliffe and try to save Ser Perth, whom was suffering from the taint. Upon arrival I was shocked to discover that he had just been infected the day before my arrival. Not as the letter stated, two weeks prior. Only another Warden would know the exact time it takes for someone to be too far gone before they succumb to the sickness. Ser Perth was infected purposely and not treated before I arrived. He claims that he was attacked while on duty and a dagger was plunged into his leg before he blacked out," she rose from her seat and grabbed a poker from beside the fire. She rested one hand palm up on her lower back, as her Father used to and prodded the glowing logs in the fireplace.

"Who do you suspect?" Wynne asked, her voice sounded both weary and intrigued.

"Ser Perth says that he overheard Eamon and Teagan conversing about me. He doesn't remember much of the conversation as he was delirious with fever, but I was mentioned several times. Before I was even allowed to see the Knight, Arl Teagan pulled me aside and proposed. He claimed that Eamon had a letter from my Father suggesting the match before he died. A letter that I have come to question the existence of. So," she took a deep breath and leveled her gaze on each of her guests, "my initial suspicions were that Teagan, Eamon and Alistair were in this together. Some plot to secure my support through marriage. If Alistair could not produce an heir, then Teagan and I may have been able to. A child of noble blood that Eamon could control," she finished. "After all, I am the last female Cousland, and the Bann's in the North would unite behind a Cousland and Guerrin heir."

"What? That's insane!" Alistair erupted from his chair only to be pulled back down again by Wynne.

"What makes you think that Alistair is involved?" Wynne cocked her head to the side, obviously interested the theory.

"The fact that only a Warden would have been able to tell Eamon exactly how long it took for the taint to take over. That and its no secret how manipulative Eamon is, pardon my saying so, your Majesty...but you can't deny that he uses you to his own purposes," Selene said.

Wynne looked over at Alistair triumphantly, "There, you see? I am not the only one who sees it."

Selene blinked, "Sees what? The plot or the manipulation?"

Alistair sighed heavily, "Lately, I've been noticing that Eamon is enacting policy without consulting me, he's even gone so far as to talk over me in the Landsmeet. He _did_ ask me to write you that letter and he _did_ ask me how long it would take before someone died of the taint, or became too twisted to be saved. But he asked me just seconds before he asked me to write you, he made it seem as if he was worried about Ser Perth and wanted to make sure you'd get there in time."

"So you had no idea that he was going to infect Ser Perth?" she asked him, her eyes narrowed.

"Maker's breath! No! How could you believe I would condone Eamon doing something like that?" he demanded.

"Once I told you that I would never hurt you, and you swore the same to me. You lied to me, that's how," she said angrily.

Alistair looked down at his hands, "I never wanted that to happen. Circumstances had changed and I only saw my duty to the throne. I would have thought you knew me well enough to know that it wasn't my choice."

"I would have understood if you had to choose between me and ending the blight, Alistair. I would have sacrificed both our lives if _that_ had been on the line. But to walk away from me for something as easily rectified as having an heir...that was cruel. You could have adopted one of Goldanna's children and we wouldn't be having this discussion right now," she said sadly and turned her back on him, once again poking the fire.

Alistair's jaw dropped, "I...never thought of that."

Selene looked up at the portrait that she'd had painted of Duncan and hung over her mantle and sighed. She closed her eyes and willed her growing headache away. "It is in the past, there is no going back. The only path lies before us."

"I agree," Wynne said trying to steer the conversation back to the plot. "so you believe that Eamon seeks to secure the throne through a Cousland and Guerrin alliance? If so, why didn't he claim the throne instead of putting Alistair forth as King?"

Selene latched onto the change in topic gladly, thanking Wynne with a heartfelt glance over her shoulder. "Because Eamon knows that Therrin blood on the throne is more acceptable at this point than a Guerrin heir. He did have a claim through marriage, but not a solid one. If Alistair proved as unable to put a Therrin on the throne as Cailan, then the next logical line of succession is through Queen Rowan's line. Hence...Guerrin bloodlines. Eamon of course is aging and his son is a Mage. The Lady Isolde is unlikely to have another child for fear that it too... might be a Mage. However a Guerrin alone would not be enough, the Couslands hold the fealty of the Arlings and Bannorn that were not sworn to the Gwaren's. We are second only to the Royal family. It is only natural that the Cousland line be picked to breed an heir."

"Why take that chance with you?" Wynne asked. "You might not even be able to conceive."

"There is a chance, if a slim one. I believe that Teagan may have suggested the marriage, I think that he does care for me. Even if he's letting his brother's manipulations give him an excuse to pursue me." Selene said flatly.

"What was your answer?" Alistair asked suddenly.

Selene turned to him and let her eyes bore into his until he squirmed in his seat, "I told him that I would think about it. I did not realize then that it was all a scheme. I was so shocked that I didn't know what to say."

"I'm not sure that an heir he can control is what Eamon is after," Wynne interjected.

"What else do you know?" Selene asked suspiciously.

With a look from Wynne, Alistair cleared his throat, "Eamon has intimated that you're building an army more vast than any in Ferelden and that you aim to take all of Ferelden under Grey Warden control."

"What? When?" Selene sat down before her legs could give out, "When did he say this? And to whom?"

"The day before yesterday, and only to me...to my knowledge. Its one of the reasons Wynne and I are here, we wanted to see for ourselves what was going on," he ran a hand through his hair nervously.

Selene glared at him and then at Wynne, who had the good grace to blush, at least. "So...because I'm a scorned lover it seems conceivable to you that I would seek to dethrone you?" she asked incredulously.

"Its not like you didn't depose Anora, you know..." Alistair started defensively.

"_Me_!?" she growled. "Might I point out that it was Eamon's plan to begin with? Not to mention that Anora couldn't keep the throne without us stepping in and you _know_ it," she hissed. "We needed to defeat the Blight, Alistair. To be honest I never expected to live past putting you on the throne. So at the time it seemed to me that I was making sure that I left Ferelden with a better ruler before I died. Was I wrong?" she posed the question directly to him with a challenging tone. "Or do you think the manipulative daughter of Loghain Mac Tir would have made the better choice?"

Alistair sighed and passed a hand over his face in frustration, "Alright, I see your point. I apologize."

"At any rate, we've been getting many recruits and I think... refugees," she changed the subject. "I haven't needed to aggressively recruit. More than half have been coming to me, and to the fortresses that I have not been in residence. So I'm not building an army to dethrone you, Alistair. Whatever you may think of me, I wouldn't put you on the throne just to take you off again. Neither will I turn away potential recruits just because some manipulative old fool thinks I might upset his plans to one day put the throne in his family's possession. You would never think this of Duncan, and I think that I have proven time and again that I seek only to follow in his footsteps," she pointed out angrily.

Alistair finally looked ashamed of himself and Selene was glad to see it. Apparently so was Wynne because she let out a relieved breath that she'd apparently been holding for quite awhile.

Selene frowned. Why were her motivations always in question? Hadn't she bled enough for this damn country and its ungrateful people? She took a deep breath and started speaking again, "Watcher Rilyn tells me that I have joinings to attend in the morning. You're welcome to stay, though there is a shortage of rooms with beds. We might be able to pull together two mattresses from somewhere and at the very least, rooms with fireplaces," she spread her hands in apology.

"That would be fine, dear," Wynne said in her weary grandmother's voice.

"Before we're done here, I have just one more question," Alistair leaned forward in his chair an elbow resting on a knee.

"Go on," Selene tried to keep her exasperation levels down but was fighting a losing battle.

"Why infect Ser Perth to get you to go to Redcliffe?" he asked.

"Because I didn't want anything to do with anyone that was remotely connected with you...Teagan knew that. I told him more than once that I would not visit Redcliffe because it held too many memories of you. He could never be certain when I would be in Amaranthine or Weisshaupt long enough for him to visit. Ser Perth got infected so that I would be forced to be in the same room with Teagan long enough to make the proposal," Selene's voice held a tremble now. "At least, that is my theory."

"Oh," was all Alistair could think to say.

"If you'll both excuse me, I need to get ready for supper. Please join me in the Main Hall. I've invited Levi as well. I think that we've accomplished all we can regarding this discussion for one day. We can resume it tomorrow," she bowed to both of them with her arms crossed at the wrist over her chest and left them in her study.

* * *

Alistair caught up with her just as she exited the door, his hand grabbed hers and pulled her to him so that he had her upper arms in his grasp. He looked down at her with his heart in his eyes.

"Let me go," she hissed, her lower lip trembled and it made her angry. She struggled but his grip grew tighter. "Let me go, now!"

"No, not until you hear me out," he said softly.

"Fine," she stopped struggling and a traitorous tear slipped down her cheek.

His face fell at the sight and he reached up and brushed the tear away with the pad of his thumb. The familiar scent of of worn leather and armor polish mixed with his own, dredged up memories that she had pushed down into the deepest darkest reaches of her soul. At that moment she realized that a tiny part hated him, and wanted nothing more than to driver her fist right into his handsome face. Especially since his expression was pitying at the moment. "I wanted to tell you that I am deeply sorry for what I did to you. Had I thought about it...I would never have ended things. If I had the chance, I would never let you go again. Can I? Have just one more chance? I mean...I want to make things right between us. I haven't been the same...without you," he said.

Selene felt a sting in her eyes and growled angrily, she had dreamed of this moment almost every night since she'd left Denerim. Since she'd fled from his presence to lock her self away in Amaranthine. However, as she glared up into his face she found herself devoid of any emotion other than disappointed resentment. Her love for him had died somewhere along the road from Redcliffe to Soldiers Peak. And she was shocked to realize that she knew the exact reason why. The reason lie in fathomless blue depths, auburn hair and the silken tones of a voice calling her, 'My Lady'.

"Its too late. The woman you loved died on the top of Fort Drakon. I'm sorry, Alistair," she removed herself from his grip and ran all the way back to her room, and Ser Perth.

* * *

Alistair stood in the hallway outside Selene's study watching in shock as she ran from him. A few silent moments passed before a feminine hand placed itself on his shoulder and he turned to look down on the elderly mage that he'd come to think of as a Mother. "She...I can't believe...after all we've been through..." he shook his head to try and clear out the confusion.

"I told you how hurt she was, did you not believe me?" her lips were pressed together in disapproval.

"She just always seemed so strong, I guess I assumed she would always be there for me and one day we could pick up where we left off. Maybe after I had an heir..." he trailed off.

"I can't believe you would think something so foolish!" Wynne said disbelievingly. "I once told her to let you go, you know. I told her that you didn't do anything half-way and that if you fell in love with her it would be wholeheartedly. I didn't want to see _you_ hurt," she frowned at the memory of the conversation. She remembered the hurt expression on Selene's face as she vehemently denied that she would ever hurt him. "Do you know what she told me?"

Alistair shook his head no. This was the first time that he'd ever heard of this conversation.

"She told me that she would do her duty end the blight, and make sure that you were the one on the throne. But that no matter how much time the two of you had left together, she would make them the happiest moments of your life. She could go to the Maker in peace knowing that for a little while you felt that someone other than Duncan...loved you. She _lived_ for _you,_ Alistair. She didn't want to leave you with the burden of rebuilding the Wardens _and_ running the Kingdom because she knew it would be too much for you. Then you pushed her aside for someone who could make babies. And now that she's finally moving on, you come barreling into her life demanding that you be a part of it. Just how do you think that makes her feel?" she scolded.

"Like running me through with a rusty longsword...I suppose," he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "What _can_ I do? I miss her."

"She's moved on... let her. Be her friend...but don't ask for what she can no longer give you," Wynne patted his cheek fondly when he finally nodded in agreement. "Good boy. Now, lets go find a room and a place to wash off the road dust...mmm?"

* * *

**Author's Note: Ahhh...hopefully now that Selene has some closure and Alistair's realized what a ponce he was, we can all move on. Finally! Insert long suffering sigh On a happy note...I am on my way to having a beta after this chapter. This may hinder update speed so please bare with me. My apologies to those that wanted Selene to punch Alistair. Though that would have been satisfying, I don't think Selene would have stopped until his face was mangled. Really, even though he'd been a prat, its still a pretty face. He wouldn't be nearly so handsome if he was missing teeth, after all.**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 5: To Orzammar**

Supper had gone better than she would have thought possible, but even so, Selene felt Alistair's eyes upon her the whole night. And with that in mind she decided that the next day, after one last meeting with him, she would embark upon a journey with the new recruits to Orzammar. Despite there being a fair amount of Darkspawn left in Ferelden, the Deep Roads was the one place where you could consistently encounter them and gather the fresh blood for their Joinings. Selene had another reason for going there as well.

King Harrowmont had sent word that the Legion reported Broodmother sightings. If the reports were correct there was more than one now, and the sightings were getting closer and closer to Orzammar. Which meant that Darkspawn were encroaching upon Orzammar with nests rather than a direct attack.

She and Andre stayed up late into the night, discussing travel plans and getting to know one another. He was more open than she was used to, and they had quite a lot in common. His father had fought in the war against Orlais, as a Knight in service to Arl Eamon. He died, and shortly thereafter his Mother passed away as well. By then, Andre was old enough to work at the Castle, and then he joined the militia. Soon after that, he earned a Knighthood of his own, following in his father's footsteps. He asked questions of her as well, which was a new experience for her.

She told him all about her Father and Mother, her brother Fergus...Oren and Oriana. Before she realized it she had poured out her whole life to him, and he hung on every word. None of her companions had ever asked her much about her life, her dreams, her fears...what losing her parents was like. With the exception of Wynne, perhaps, but even then the mage had merely expressed condolences and told her that everything would be alright, rather than genuinely listening.

A part of Selene felt resentment towards her traveling companions, during all of their travels she had asked them about their lives, given them support, advice, love, and friendship. Not one of them had asked her "How are you coping with the death of your entire family and the loss of the only home you have ever known?" Not a single person, not even Alistair. And though she would not take back the oath she had sworn to the Wardens, she had joined out of loyalty to her father, out of a sense of honor and purpose. She had been thrust into the Wardens and then into leading a rag-tag band of warriors, without even being asked if it was what she wanted. She simply did it because no one else seemed to want to. There was an Archdemon to defeat, and she seemed to be the only one willing to put her grief and losses aside long enough to make any decisions. And by the time Alistair had pulled his head out of the hole he'd stuck it in, he told her that he didn't feel up to the task. And that she was a really good leader, _anyway__._ He claimed that if he were to lead, he would only get them lost and end up somewhere without his pants. While cute at the time, she nearly strangled him for it on many other occasions. Especially when they finally cured Arl Eamon and Alistair let the older Noble push him around.

There were so many times when she felt that only she was aware of what it meant to be the Grey Warden leader of Ferelden. But then again, Duncan knew, didn't he? Duncan knew that being a Warden meant doing what was necessary, however unpleasant.

Somewhere in her conversation with Andre she ended up speaking about her old mentor. She told the Knight how Duncan had saved her from the clutches of Rendon Howe, how he had helped her escape through the streets of Highever. How images of her people's murdered corpses still haunted her dreams. And how, through it all, Duncan kept her focused. Andre gave her his undivided attention and when she was too tired to speak further, he pulled her against him and she fell immediately asleep. Cheek to masculine chest, and Selene slept deeper than she had for nearly the past year and a half.

* * *

"I'm sorry, Alistair, but you're going to have to deal with Eamon yourself." Selene pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes. They had been going round and round about her decision to go to Orzammar for the better part of an hour.

Alistair stood from his seat and paced the floor, "What is it that you expect me to do, exactly?! I can't just dismiss him, Selene!"

Selene folded her arms and raised an eyebrow, "Alistair, I realize that you never wanted to be King. There have been many days when I regret helping Eamon do that to you. You are a good man, and I'm sorry that it has turned out this way. But what is done is done, and while I know that it is unpleasant, you need to start taking responsibility for your own life. You know the difference between right and wrong. Letting Eamon control you is wrong. I know that you are no coward, either you stand up for yourself with Eamon, or I do it for you," she finished with a growl.

Alistair narrowed his eyes at her, "Just what does that mean, exactly?"

"It means," she unfolded her arms and sat down at her desk and leaned forward, her elbows on the polished wood, hands clasped before her, "that I still hold the oath of an Antivan assassin. One whose skills have improved greatly since his failed attempt at killing me. Eamon is no longer an Arl, and he holds no title other then Chancellor. Thus, no one will suffer other than Isolde if he dies. Being a Warden means doing whatever it takes to defeat Darkspawn, Alistair. And while we do not get involved in politics, if he is gaining support against the Wardens with intention of wiping us out, like King Arland did, then he will be...disposed of. I cannot chance Darkspawn gaining a foothold in Ferelden again."

"But you can't be sure of that, and at any rate you can't just _assassinate_ people Selene," Alistair was staring at her in disbelief.

Selene leaned back in her chair and tilted her head to the side. "It is my duty. I will not let the Wardens fall again to tyranny and injustice. If it takes one or two expertly timed murders to accomplish that, then I will be saving many by sacrificing a few. Such is the burden of leadership. You want to save the man, then you need to stop him before I am forced to. While I can understand that my answer seems ruthless and cold to you, I will do what I think is right."

Alistair glared at her. "You're right, you aren't the same woman I knew. The Selene I knew would never kill someone just because they threatened the Wardens."

"Loghain Mac Tir might say otherwise, Alistair," she growled. He opened his mouth to retort and she held up a hand, cutting him off. "Enough! We are accomplishing nothing. You have my answer to your dilemma, your Majesty. Do what you must, and I will do the same."

She stood and bowed to him. He stared at her for another moment then nodded curtly and left the room, the purple cape over his golden armor billowing behind him. When he was gone she sighed heavily. Wynne offered her a pained smile. "Thank you for talking to him. I know that it seems like he didn't listen to you, but you did more good than you realize." She stood slowly and hugged Selene then left in the same direction the King had taken.

Once they were gone she got out a piece of blank vellum and started writing. Andre, who was close by, watched her with interest. He had yet to speak, and for that she was grateful, right now she wanted to get a few letters out of the way so that she could set her mind at ease.

She dipped her quill into the ink pot and started writing:

_Dearest Brother-_

_It has recently come to my attention that the Guerri__ns_ _are making a play for the throne__,_ _and they are seeking to use me to meet this goal. You may have already received a petition for my hand from Arl Teagan__,_ _at the behest of his older brother. I do not wish to enter into such a match. So, when I formally __refuse, you will notice Chancellor Eamon becoming increasingly verbal against Grey Wardens in Ferelden. _

_I believe that Eamon will seek to make an enemy of me as he knows that I shall be against him when he enacts whatever his plans are to take Alistair off the throne. He may even come after you. _

_Keep vigilant brother, and remember that I do what I must, for the good of Ferelden... and its King._

_I shall be sending a dear friend of mine to keep you company and watch over you. I trust this person with my life and she will help to keep you safe. Do stop rolling your eyes, it is for your own good!_

_Your little sister-_

_Selene_

She folded the letter carefully and melted red sealing wax over its crease and sealed it with the Grey Warden signet ring she wore. That done, she penned another letter to Leliana who was in Denerim with Brother Genitivi at the moment. Their quest for the Urn had not ended well and Leliana had returned to Denerim with the aging priest to regroup. Selene had no doubt that Leliana would welcome a break and would readily help her out with Fergus.

She took the two letters and called in the Warden standing guard outside her study. "Could you have one of the Dryden's get these letters delivered for me? Ask Levi to do it, if at all possible. If not, then ask him to give it to the most trustworthy of his kin...thank you," she said as the Warden saluted her and left the room.

Finally she turned to regard her newest recruit and soon to be lover. "Would you accompany me to Orzammar, Andre?"

"My Lady, I go where you go," he removed himself from his leaning position against the wall of her study and approached her. His finger slid under her chin and he lifted her lips to his. The kiss was gentle and tasted of the strawberries they had shared for breakfast that morning. "You could not keep me from your side, even if you ordered me to," he said thickly when the kiss broke.

"I feel the same way," she let an affectionate smile find its way to her face, and she gave him another peck on the lips before returning to business. "I want you to get new armor and weapons. I've an account with the smith in the courtyard. Go down and get what you need, tell him that I sent you," she said.

"I shall repay you," he seemed uncomfortable about having to rely upon her to by him armor and she cut him off before he could try to promise to repay her.

"Andre, the Wardens are funded from looting the corpses of darkspawn and our slain foes. Though we allow the keeping of a small amount for personal use most of it goes to the Order. He receives a monthly commission. Don't worry about it. Now go, my love. Before I get carried away with you and we're delayed another day," she laughed at his boyish grin and watched as he exited the room.

* * *

That afternoon she left Soldier's Peak with Andre and the Warden recruits. Xephi had tagged along as well as there was no other mage on hand to accompany them. Selene dared not brave the Deep Roads with five green recruits and no healer. Niara and Cyrus stayed behind at the Keep in case something were to happen with Chancellor Eamon and the King before she returned. Alistair knew the way to the Keep now, and they needed as many seasoned warriors on hand as they could get.

As the snow and ice of the pass gave way to the warmth of the spring that currently graced Ferelden with what its people affectionately called 'mud season', she replayed the last meeting with the King over in her mind.

"_You're right, you aren't the same woman I knew. The Selene I __knew_ _would never kill someone just because they threatened the Wardens." _the words echoed hollowly in her ears and she sighed. No she was not the same woman. She glanced over at the Knight riding at her side, he was wearing the dragonbone heavy plate armor and a Warden great sword. She took in his face which was relaxed and his eyes scanned their surroundings with great interest. Was she a woman that this man could love? He had watched the whole conversation this morning and still kissed her before going to purchase his armor. He admired her at Redcliffe, in the beginning when she was still reeling from the loss of her parents and Duncan, and still trying to find the nerve to accomplish the impossible.

"My Lady?" Andre's voice floated into her musings and pulled her out.

"Yes, love?" she smiled as his cheeks flushed and he smiled back.

"I could never tire of hearing that from your lips," he chuckled.

"That is well, for I am disinclined to stop," she laughed.

"I...wanted to discuss what happened earlier this morning...in your study," he said after a moment.

"I see," her previous good mood disintegrating rapidly.

"I wanted to know how you felt about your decision in regards to the Chancellor," he asked.

"How I felt?" she raised an eyebrow at him and then took a deep breath. "Truly?"

He nodded and she felt all of a sudden compelled to spur her horse into an all out gallop to avoid having to answer. She knew how she felt, of course. She was just unsure that it would be what he wanted to hear. But running from truth was never her way and thus she could do no less than confront it, and if that meant losing his affections...well then, perhaps Morrigan's words were truer than she first supposed, beauty and love are fleeting.

"Growing up a Cousland, I was nursed to adulthood on tales of my Father's heroism and I ate them up like sweets. They became the compass by which I directed my life. When I was eight or so, he sat me on his knee and he said this, 'Pup, an oath is not to be sworn lightly, never swear an oath that you do not intend to keep. A man or woman is only as good as their word.' At the time I did not appreciate the wisdom he was imparting to me, but now," she looked upwards into the graying skies that threatened to open up and rain upon them and closed her eyes to gather her thoughts.

When she at last lowered her head she opened them and leveled a gaze on her intended, "After Mother and Father died, I swore vengeance on Arl Rendon Howe, and vengeance was mine. I swore to Duncan that I would take care of Alistair and end the Blight. Now Alistair is King and the Blight is over. And finally, I have sworn to the Wardens that they would never again be hunted to extinction. I do not enjoy the prospect of having to eliminate a man that helped me defeat the Archedemon, but that man owes me much. And were he to come after me or the Grey Wardens... then I would reward that betrayal with swift retribution. Though I would not take pleasure in it, neither would I feel regret. I will hold to my oath...my Father would have me do no less," she realized then that what should have been a short answer, had become a speech and she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Your Father was a Good man, Selene," Andre said after a moment of silence.

"Yes, he was," she immediately replied.

"And you are much like him. I am...proud of you," he reached over and took her hand in his. They rode like that for a long time. The silence stretched on but Selene found that silence comforting, almost as much as the feel of his warm hand holding hers.

Soon the rain began to fall...

* * *

Night fell with a seeming swiftness that was near alarming to Selene, so wrapped up in the nearness of Ser Perth was she, that she let time slip through her awareness like water through a sieve. They set up camp at the midway point between Soldiers Peak and Orzammar, Lake Calenhad could be seen in the distance.

The stream nearby let them water their horses and refill their water flasks.

Selene busied herself with unloading her supplies from her horse and noticed something important was missing. "Sod!" she swore to herself.

Andre was in earshot and sauntered over to her, a smile on his face. "Something wrong, love?"

She sighed heavily, "Yes...it seems that I have stupidly forgotten to pack my tent."

"Oh...did you now?" his smooth voice teased.

She cast a sideways glance at him and then stared at him incredulously. "Why am I getting the feeling that I did in fact pack my tent and it's mysteriously disappeared?"

"Hmm, as much as I'd like to claim the credit, my dear...I believe our Mage friend has decided that our budding relationship is moving entirely too slowly and has decided to take matters into his own hands." He gave her horse a friendly pat and started the task of taking off the saddle for her.

"What?!" she asked louder than intended and then brought her voice down to a whisper. "Are you saying that he unpacked my tent in hopes that we would share, and...a-and...that you would..." she trailed off and made some nonsensical hand gestures.

Andre smiled crookedly, "Yes, my lady. I do believe the Mage has hopes that I will be motivated to seduce you...if that is what you mean by all that frantic hand movement."

"Yes, Ser Knight. That is indeed what I mean. Where _is_ Xephi?" she looked about the camp and found that he was indeed conveniently missing.

"Normally my lady I would tell you anything you wanted to know, but...I'm feeling rather disinclined to answer. You see, I would not be a very honorable man if I betrayed his whereabouts being that I am not unhappy about the prospect..." he chuckled as her eyes narrowed at him.

"You knew...the whole time!" she jabbed a finger into his chest and smirked inwardly as he winced.

"You can't very well expect me to do without you for the night...not when I've grown so terribly fond of your adorable snoring," he grinned mischievously.

"I..do not..._snore!_"she jabbed the tip of her pointer finger into his flesh again. This time punctuating each word with a poke.

He grabbed the hand that was jabbing him and lifted it gently to his lips, kissing the backs of her knuckles tenderly. He then pulled her into his arms and then kissed her slowly, passionately. His large hands pressed into her lower back, molding her smaller frame against his. When he pulled away from her he found her eyes half lidded and her lips swollen and he could think of nothing more beautiful in all of heaven or earth. Andraste herself could not have been more beautiful than Selene was at that very moment. "Spend the night with me?" he asked earnestly.

Selene's eyelids fluttered open and her mind raced and soon the words, "I would love to," slipped out and her stomach flipped when his face lit up. _'I could be content living my whole life doing nothing but making him smile,' _she thought as he squeezed her gently and then released her and then trotted off to set up 'their' tent.

"Makers breath," she whispered as the gravity of what she had agreed to finally seeped into her head.

* * *

**Author's Note: **This was a frustrating chapter, mostly because I had no idea where to go with the story. My boyfriend's advice was: "When in doubt, go to Orzammar." So...Orzammar it is. Thank you for sticking with this, and thanks to Melismo for beta-ing for me. Reviews?


	6. Chapter 6

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 6: May you always find your way in the dark**

_**Warning: **__There is sexual content in this chapter. _

Selene was sitting beside the fire outside their tent, which was set a small distance apart from the main fire that the recruits had set their tents around. She smiled to herself as she realized that it seemed almost identical to the set up that she and her companions had adopted on their quest. Only now it was she that was set apart, not Morrigan. Selene sighed heavily at the thought of the dark haired, yellow-eyed witch, who was always a forbidden topic of conversation between she and Alistair after the last battle.

Selene herself had no doubt that it was not the last that she would hear from Morrigan. Perhaps Selene might even be called upon to put the woman down, depending on what her plans were for that...abomination that Alistair helped her create. She sneered at the thought. She loathed having to let Morrigan do that. But...they would not have survived if she had not done so. She had seen the signs, Alistair would have tried to take the final blow and claim it as his 'Kingly' duty. Perhaps it would have even been his choice to make, but she did not kick that self-serving bitch Anora off the throne just to have her lay claim to it again once Alistair was dead.

And so it was done...despite the penalties they might later have to pay. She would cross that bridge when she came to it. She had more immediate things to be concerned over now, Andre was currently at the stream, washing their supper plates and utensils. He would return soon and Selene's stomach was infested with butterflies.

She tried not to focus on what was going to happen too much, but it was difficult. Her imagination took on a life of its own and she found herself daydreaming. So much so in fact she did not hear Andre return. She was startled by the clanking noise of the dishes being packed away. She looked up to find him smiling at her from his kneeling position in front of a pack.

"Copper for your thoughts?" he asked as he tied the pack closed and pushed it off to the side of their camp area.

Selene blushed furiously and then shook her head. "Just reminiscing and...daydreaming."

"And what does a Warden Commander daydream about, I wonder?" he teased.

She chuckled, "Oh...I'm certain you'll find out soon enough."

Andre cast a glance over his shoulder at the recruits gathered around the fire, their attention on the charismatic Warden Mage who was no doubt telling bawdy tales about tavern wenches or something of that nature. He turned back to her and lifted an eyebrow suggestively.

"You want to...right now?" she mentally kicked herself for sounding like an idiot.

He chuckled and stepped closer to her, his hand took one of hers from where it rested in her lap and he helped her stand. "I will not ask anything of you that you are not willing to give, my love. I haven't been alone with you all day. I should like to hold you...away from prying eyes."

"Alright," she squeezed his hand and he pulled her with him into the tent.

Inside the light from the outside fire allowed her to faintly see the smile on his lips. They were both kneeling, as the tent was not very tall. He didn't let go of her hand. Instead she was pulled forward gently until she was straddling his lap.

She looked into his blue eyes and found them a solid gray in the muted firelight inside the tent. They seemed to draw her breath from her lungs. She wondered briefly if perhaps he wasn't her Andre after all, but a desire demon in disguise. How else could one man be everything she ever dreamed of having?

Their lips met and they began teaching each other the way of love. A brush of fingertips _here_, a scraping of teeth on skin _there_...each listening for the encouraging sounds of the other. Selene's fingers found themselves entangled in auburn locks and they scraped over his scalp earning a growl of approval. A noise she had never heard before and longed to hear again.

Piece by piece clothing fell from their bodies by no conscious command of their owners. Their skin met and Selene could almost believe she'd been hit with a lightning spell. The sensations arced through her body, traveling over her skin...jumping from nerve ending to nerve ending. And suddenly she was being filled, completed, and then he moved her. The sinuous rolling motion of their joined bodies was like a restless sea. The coiled tension deep within her built like a living thing and sooner than she expected...she imploded. She bit into his shoulder to stifle the noise and he growled again in response.

Then she was on her back before she even had a chance to recover, and she stared up into her Knight's eyes once more and found there a feral gleam.

Andre captured her lips with his and hooked one of her legs over his arm. He pulled her closer as he drove forward, making stars dance before her eyes. He stopped only for a moment to look her over, laid out beneath him in all her glory. Her smooth tanned legs wrapped around his hips, her eyes half lidded and lips slightly parted. Her labored breathing was interrupted only by breathy moans as he moved within her, slowly...methodically bringing her to the brink and then holding back until the tide receded. Like an evenly matched battle...advance...retreat...advance again...until she was pleading for him to follow her over the edge of the abyss.

Selene's arms wound around his neck as he granted her request. He quickened the pace but slipped his arm under her lower back and lifted her hips to meet his, burying himself until he felt sure that they were merging into one person. After a time he felt the tell tale signs of his own completion and knew that he would not last much longer, he rolled his hips once, twice... and felt her tighten around him and then was lost in her warmth. In a sea of peace and absolution. His heart bursting with so many emotions that he felt certain that many of them didn't even have names. Andre, in that moment could truly believe that there were miracles left by the Maker in this world, and his own miracle lie beneath him. Damp, shuddering, hair tangled in his grasp, lips bruised with his kisses and utterly unaware of just how much he loved her.

"Tell me that I am not dreaming," he choked out, still recovering from his own release. "Tell me that you're real and that tomorrow I will wake up with you in my arms."

She laughed softly and stroked his cheek, the stubble scraping against her fingertips lightly. "Yes, I'm here. This is real and I'm not going anywhere...at least, not without you," she assured him.

"I love you. Maker, I did not think that it was possible...to love someone so much," his eyes traveled over her face, committing her every detail and subtle imperfection to memory.

"I love you too," she said, his sweet words caused an ache in her heart. She blinked rapidly and was unsuccessful at keeping a tear from rolling down her cheek. Had there ever been such joy in her life before now? No, she realized. Before the blight there had only been a desperate need and loneliness. She had filled it with what she had presumed was love, but now...she was not sure that it was love at all.

With one more kiss his weight was removed from her and he pulled her into his arms, her back to his front. She snuggled into his warmth, relishing the feel of his muscles against her curves. And they fell asleep almost simultaneously.

* * *

Morning brought with it the conclusion that red-haired muscular Knights look best in the light of dawn. At least, this was Selene's opinion. Her eyes strayed to the purple and blue bite mark she had left on his shoulder and she winced. That was going to be very uncomfortable underneath plate armor.

A contented rumble sounded from his chest, like the purring of a great cat. She chuckled as she was pulled downward onto his chest. "The conquering hero awakens," she set her chin on his chest and gazed up at him with a grin on her face.

"Ha!" he laughed. "Was it I that was the conquering hero? Or was it you, my darling? I think it might be the latter," he tapped her on the nose.

"Well then, now that you have been conquered, Ser Knight. You can get me some breakfast, then saddle my horse...I think my armor needs a bit of polishing-," she yelped as she was flipped onto her back.

"Saucy Minx," he said softly and then captured her lips in a slow seductive kiss.

When he pulled away Selene was on fire and breathless. "Or, you could just kiss me some more."

"As you wish, My Lady," he smirked and kissed her again.

Much, much later they pulled up camp. The rest of their companions gave them knowing smiles, and Andre was given a congratulatory pat on the back by a few of the men. Selene took it in stride, seeing little reason to pretend that there was nothing going on between them.

Soon they were back on the road and Andre once again rode at the front of the party at her side. Once and awhile she would steal a sideways glance at his face to find him watching her. A small smile on his face.

On one such occasion she found herself unable to take the shy silence between them. Shyness was not something that she wanted in their relationship. "Andre, would you tell me about your Mother and Father?"

The question clearly surprised him because his eyebrows shot up, "What would you like to know?"

"Anything...everything...I'd like to know more about your childhood," she shifted in her saddle.

"My Mother's name was Andrea. I was named for her...my Father's idea," he smiled to himself as he remembered. "My Father's name was Marcus, and he was a giant of a man. I am tall, but he was quite a lot taller. I believe that he was only a little shorter than your Qunari friend...what was his name?" he asked.

"Sten," she replied. "I'm surprised you remember him."

Andre laughed, "How does one forget a seven foot white-haired giant? He was a little unusual, especially in a small fishing village such as Redcliffe."

Selene hummed in agreement. "I suppose you're right. Sten, is quite different."

"Well to continue on, my parents were very much in love. From the time they were children they were always inseparable. So when they came of age it only seemed natural that they marry. A year later, I was born. It was a difficult birth and the healer told my Mother that she would never have more children. So as you can imagine, she doted on me," he chuckled.

"You don't act as though you were doted on," she offered.

"No, my Father made certain I knew my place in the world," he took her hand. "He was a good Father, but his lessons were...a little harsh at times."

Selene squeezed his hand. "I'm...sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. He's dead now, and I've long since moved beyond it. Let's just say that I swore to myself that I would never strike a child and I would never let another child suffer the same, if there was something that I could do about it," he squeezed her hand back gently. "Mother always made excuses for him, but she loved him. When he died it was like she died as well. One day, she just stopped eating...and not long after that...she was gone."

"My mother died defending my Father," she said softly. "We found him in the larder, near the servants' entrance. Duncan had half carried, half dragged him there. And when it came time for Mother and me to leave with Duncan, she refused to go. She said it was to buy me time to get out, but I knew better. I was going off to be a Grey Warden, Father was dying, Oren and Orianna were already dead, and Fergus...well, we didn't know whether or not Howe had already gotten to him. In my Mother's eyes, she had nothing left," she took a deep breath and blinked back tears.

She looked over to find her lover staring at her intensely. "When you get the Clarion call, I am going with you," he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

She opened her mouth to protest, but she shut it again with an audible snap. She'd been a Warden not too much longer than he. Perhaps two years longer? If the call came for her two years before his did, would she really be doing him a mercy by leaving him alone for two years, only to make him walk the deep roads alone? Which was more cruel? She sighed then and nodded in agreement.

"I love you," she said after a few minutes. The whole conversation had plagued her and she replayed it over and over again in her mind.

Her hand was taken in his again, "I love you as well, My lady. Always."

* * *

The gates of Orzammar was still being guarded. Though King Harrowmont had taken over the throne it seemed that Bhelen supporters were hard to stamp out. The guard recognized her immediately.

"Atrast Vala, Grey Warden," the dwarven guard put his fist over his heart in salute. "What brings you back to Orzammar?"

Selene inclined her head, "I've come at the invitation of King Harrowmont to investigate a problem within the deep roads."

The guard nodded and then opened the gates for her and her companions. Once inside she found herself feeling almost at home. She'd spent nearly a week in Orzammar and despite or perhaps because of all the 'adventures' she had while there, had quite enjoyed herself.

She grinned widely at the collective gasp of her companions. "Grey Wardens are perhaps some of the few humans allowed in Orzammar," she called out over the bustle of the commons marketplace.

"Oh, my giddy Aunt!" Xephi exclaimed. "Why do Dwarves have to make everything so monstrously big when they're only three feet tall? You think that they're compensating for something?"

Selene passed her hand over her face and then sighed heavily, "Why did I bring mouth almighty again?"

Andre chuckled, "I believe that you claimed he might be useful."

"Oh...right," she laughed. "Well, lets hurry up and get to the palace. We need to speak with King Harrowmont before Xephi gets us thrown out."

King Harrowmont was already in his throne room awaiting their arrival when Selene entered the palace with her company of Wardens and recruits.

"Atrast Vala Grey Warden, you've returned to Orzammar at a very convenient time," Harrowmont stood from his throne and inclined his head.

Selene crossed her arms and bowed deeply to the Dwarven King, "Atrast Vala, King Harrowmont. I received your message. It seems that your reign has proven to be an exciting one thus far."

Harrowmont chuckled, "Yes, it has at that." He looked over her companions. "You have brought many other's with you. It seems that your recruiting efforts have gone well?"

"They have...I would like your permission to recruit here as well," she suggested hopefully.

"Of course, many would welcome such an honor. As you well know, we welcome any opportunity to hold a Proving. One can be arranged in your honor...upon your return of course," he offered her a smile.

The statement implied that there was always a chance that she might not make it back from their excursion into the deep roads. But such was the risk. "How many Brood-mother sightings have there been?"

The King sat down on his throne, suddenly looking very weary and quite a bit older. "Three verified sightings, and a fourth that may or may not be rumor. They have been sighted all the way up to the Aeducan Thaig, which was opened by one of King Endrin's sons before he died. I cannot offer you any aid in this, Warden," he smoothed down his beard as he looked at her.

Selene nodded, "I understand, your majesty. Orzammar deserves her rest, I will take my party down into the thaigs now...if that is acceptable."

"As you wish, Commander. Atrasta nal tunsha," he said with a smile.

"You as well, your majesty," she bowed again and led her companions out of the throne room.

When they were outside the palace Andre asked her what the words the King had spoken to her had meant.

She took a deep breath and let it out and turned a weary eye on her lover. They were about to go into the deepest bowels of hell. A place she had hoped not to see again until the end of her life. "May you always find your way in the dark," she said.

* * *

The Deep Roads are much the same now as they were when she left them, vowing to never return unless called. And called she has been, and she still wishes with every violent thud of her heart that she was not there. Every step bringing her closer to the Aeducan thaig...closer to that which she could one day be in danger of becoming. There had not been many women Grey Warden's in the past, so close to the taint were Grey Wardens...just a breath away from darkspawn. It would take very little time for her to be changed. When the clarion call came, she could only hope that she would somehow get herself killed quickly, or fall on her sword. She did not want to be changed, to be touched...molded. Bred with. With every female Grey Warden she recruited she made a point to pull her aside and tell her what she may one day become. For every dark spawn she killed she might bear another...if she couldn't find a way to die first. And so, every female Grey Warden would answer their call with a male Grey Warden, who would strike the killing blow if it came to that.

She had yet to tell Andre, somehow she just couldn't. Perhaps after today. Perhaps then, he would understand. That she would rather die, that it would be a mercy. The supreme act of love.

"I will not become what I have seen," she whispered to herself.

Selene was lost in the deep roads, they thrust all the way back into her days as a recruit, when she had stumbled about the wilds with Alistair, Jory and Daveth. Barely aware of the Dark spawn until they were upon them and Alistair was releasing a battle cry and launching himself into the beasts. The taint was so strong here, like a fog of sickness blanketing the stone. She was blinded by it, so blind that she was continuously surprised when she rounded yet another corner without darkspawn. And just as surprised when she found half a horde down a tunnel she thought might be safe.

The taint had not been so thick here the last time, when the blight clawed at the world above. When the tide of twisted creatures had receded enough so that the thaigs could be traversed in relative safety. There was nothing safe about the deep roads now. They were caverns of death and decay. To travel them now was pure madness. Yet, here she was.

They fought their way through the thaig, and she was surprised that she had yet to lose a recruit. She paused to let them rest after an hour of brutal fighting.

Xephi collapsed next to her, his skin pale and sweat pouring down his face. He turned a weary gaze on her, "You certainly know how to show a fella a good time, Commander."

Without answering she fished around in her pack and brought out one of the larger vials of lyrium potion they had brought. There were no lyrium veins in this thaig for him to draw on and his strength was lagging.

"Here," she said. "Don't say I never gave you anything."

He took it from her, uncorked it and downed it in one go. The effects were almost immediate as the color returned to his cheeks and he seemed to breath easier. "When do you think we'll find this eight-tittied tentacle monstrosity you were telling us about?"

Though she would have rather he'd used less crude terminology, she was more than thankful that he had a little humor back in his voice. "The reports indicated that she should be in an abandoned estate just over that bridge there," she pointed to the bridge ahead.

"Perfect," he said sarcastically. "How many of these things are there supposed to be again?"

She took a long pull from her water skin and handed to him. It was her understanding that lyrium was disgusting to drink. He took it from her and drank deeply. "Three, maybe four."

"Sounds like a party," he chuckled and handed the skin back to her.

Selene raised her head, eyes searching for her beloved and she relaxed when she found him checking over a wound on one of the recruit's legs. The younger man had gotten between her and a shriek during the last battle and had paid for it. The shriek used her moment of hesitation to slash open his calf in an attempt to cripple him. She smiled as Andre finished with the bandage and clapped the youth on the back. He was good with the recruits. And she was thankful that she was not the only one that they idolized anymore. It could get so damn tiring at times.

She stood and they all turned to look at her expectantly, "We need to get moving, the sooner we find these things, the sooner we can get out of here."

Without protest each of them pulled their gear together and they followed her across the bridge.

And as she neared the ruined estate she could hear Hespith's rhyme echoing from the dark locked away parts of her soul,

"_First day, they come and catch everyone._

_Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat._  
_Third day, the men are all gnawed on again._  
_Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate._  
_Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn._  
_Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams._  
_Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew._  
_Eighth day, we hated as she is violated._  
_Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin._  
_Now she does feast, as she's become the beast."_

And as the last of Hespith's dark and strangely monotone voice dies out in her mind, she opens the door of the old Aeducan Estate and steps into...madness.

* * *

**Author's note: **I hope this chapter did not feel too rushed. Hespith's rhyme is to my knowledge word for word. I've gotten it from Dragon Age Wiki, rather than from the game directly. As always, thank you to Melismo and to you my readers.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**by Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 7: Broodmothers**

- - -

"_That's where they come from. That's why they hate us... that's why they need us. That's why they take us.... that's why they feed us." -Hespith Captain and lover of the Paragon Branka_

**Warning: Chapter contains some spoilers for Awakenings**

* * *

Selene crossed the threshold of the Great Hall in the old Aeducan Estate, as always when there is dark spawn infestation there are fleshy growths everywhere. They are filled with blood and other fluids one would rather not think about. The smell is only a little less appetizing than rotting fish and follows you long after you have gotten away from its source. The hall itself was lit with torches and light from the lava tubing that still functioned even after centuries of neglect. At the center of it all was their reason for being here.

There amidst the detritus of dark spawn filth and the ruins of a once proud and strong thaig, languished a Broodmother. She was hideous, and every bit as corpulent and loathsome as the one Selene had previously encountered in the dead trenches. It was sleeping, and she thanked the Maker silently for small mercies. Perhaps she could find a way to drop down onto it and behead it before it had a chance to wake up. That would be no small feat, however. Its many tentacles were sprawled out everywhere. Once and awhile one of them would twitch and the beast would stir. She would have a hard time getting past them without the monster waking up.

The rest of her companions stood behind her, slack-jawed and as silent as corpses. She sincerely hoped that none of them would freeze up, should the abomination awake. She let her eyes wander over the room and found that there were deep pockmarks in the stone wall behind the creature. They were close enough that she could grasp them easily and climb above it. Nodding to herself she turned and pulled Andre off to one side so that she could speak with him.

"Do you see those holes in the wall behind the creature?" she whispered. When he nodded she continued, "I am going to use those to climb up behind the beast. I need you and the rest to surround it in the front, in case it awakens. Keep them away from the tentacles. And...keep Xephi on that mound of rock over there," she pointed to the pile of rubble off to the left of the hall. "The tentacles can't knock him down from there and he can cast spells uninterrupted."

"I'll tell him," he acknowledged her orders. She turned to head towards the holes behind the beast only to be pulled back by her upper arm gently. "Be careful," he said seriously.

She smiled reassuringly and kissed him lightly. "I'll be alright."

He watched her pick her way through the debris and step carefully over tentacles and he side. That woman would drive him mad, he just knew it. He got the recruits and Xephi in place and then took up his own position.

Selene made it around the mass of graying flesh without waking it and started climbing up the wall. The footholds were powdery, as if they'd been made by a ballista. She quickly made it above the beast and she hung on, one handed and drew Starfang from its place at her back with the other hand. With one last silent prayer to the maker she pushed off from the wall, pivoting in the air and drawing Duncan's sword in mid-flight. She was suddenly suspended mid-air as a tentacle caught her and wound itself around her chest plate. The steel make of her armor saved her from being immediately crushed, but she knew it would not hold forever.

The creature drew her close as if to examine her. Selene found herself face to face with a horror that no longer had lips with which to smile in its satisfaction at having her within its grasp. But she felt as if that's what it was doing nonetheless. Selene looked into its madness clouded eyes she saw the light of recognition and she shuddered. As if burned the creature roared and the tentacle holding her dropped her suddenly. She hit the ground and the wind was knocked from her.

As she struggled to breathe she watched as the recruits, Xephi and Andre battled the beast. Xephi spun his staff over his head in wide arcs and Selene smelt burnt ozone. Her eyes widened and she struggled to her feet, just barely managing to stagger away from the beast as the lightning storm spell was unleashed upon the mass of distorted flesh.

The spell allowed Xephi and the others to help her to an area where she could be looked over and they could regroup.

The Broodmother writhed and cried out, and just as they were about to renew their assault they were descended upon by dark spawn. The creatures having undoubtedly heard their Mother's cries.

Selene let loose a war cry and charged into them, whirling and parrying their twisted blades. She cut down the creatures with frightening accuracy and was pleased to see her lover doing the same. After what seemed an exhaustive battle where the creatures seemed to multiply even as they were cut down. Selene felt her rage peak. Her battle instincts took over and she ran headlong towards the broodmother.

She saw a tentacle head towards her and as it reached out for her she grabbed it and used it to swing herself up. Her momentum propelled her forwards and she brought her blades over her head and felt it the moment they sheared through fat, blood, gristle and bone. She planted her feet on the monstrous shoulders and yanked, pulling both blades out and plunging them in again and again. The beast was long dead before she stopped stabbing. When the haze of the berserker rage had receded she stood atop a shredded mound of flesh.

She sheathed her blades and looked down at the stunned recruits and an equally stunned Andre and Xephi. She would have bit her lip in embarrassment if it were not for the fact that her entire face was covered in dark spawn blood.

"And _that_ boys and girls, is why we try and stay on the Warden Commander's good side!" Xephi clapped his hands together. "Let's make like a tree and leave," he suggested with a lopsided grin.

There was a nervous chuckled from one of the recruits and a lifting of an eyebrow from Ser Perth. Selene sighed heavily and then motioned for them to move out. The day was far from over and there were two more of these things to kill. Her ribs ached. She could only hope that her next plan went over better than this one.

"Xephi, I think it's your turn to launch yourself at the next one," she grumbled.

"Ouch, Kitten," he pouted comically.

"Warden Commander," Andre growled.

Xephi gave Andre a thoroughly unrepentant grin. "Yeah, that too."

Selene did laugh at that. Both because of her lover's light possessive streak and Xephi's complete lack of respect for it. She was grateful for both. She didn't think that she could handle talking about what had just occurred with the broodmother. The whole thing had been disturbing enough. One thought plagued her for hours afterwards.

The twisted tainted mass of flesh, had Hespith's eyes...

* * *

The other two broodmothers were found together in Cadash Thaig. Selene was only glad that Shale was no longer with her. She would have flipped a boulder, since the Thaig once belonged to her house.

The group was carrying one of the recruits on a make-shift litter made from dried bones and discarded clothing and blankets found it the Thaig. The unlucky young man didn't heed Andre's shout to get out of the way and was thrown bodily into the cave wall by a flailing tentacle. All in all, having eight people instead of four battling the creatures was a big help.

They searched the rest of the day for any indication of a fourth brood mother and found none. So Selene decided to take the tired group back. She would do some investigating into the fourth sighting when she returned to Orzammar. The vials of darkspawn blood were acquired early on in the expedition. All that was required now was to put the recruits through. With any luck, most, if not all, of them would survive.

Maker, she hoped so. She had enough blood on her hands. There were times when she cursed being in charge. The fact that she led many good men and women to their deaths everyday just by offering them a cup, upset her on a deep level. The Joining was a battle, she could understand that. But it was a battle that didn't have to be fought, not now that there was no blight. And if the recruits ran, she would have to cut them down. How Duncan ever endured....

She was brought back to reality by a large hilt-calloused hand closing over her own. She glanced up to find Andre looking at her with a worried expression. "You have that face," he said.

Selene's eyebrows drew together in question and then she smiled with amusement. "Oh? And what face is that, Ser Knight?"

He chuckled at her use of his former title, "Well, my Lady Selene. You often scowl when you are inwardly questioning your own morals and decisions," he teased. "Are you thinking about the broodmothers?"

She shook her head, "Actually, I am thinking about how many recruits we have now, versus how many Wardens we'll have by tomorrow." She turned away from him, unable to stand the sympathetic expression in his eyes. No matter how much she may need to be sympathized with at the moment.

"All these men are volunteers, Selene. You can't ask them not to fight for their homes, their families or for what they believe in. The Grey Wardens are warriors without equal. They do what they must, and so do you. None of them blame you for that. And if you must be a little cold in order to build an organization strong enough to protect this land, then that is what you must do. But what you must not do is falter in this endeavor. You must stay true to your course, my Lady," he squeezed her hand.

She smiled up at him gratefully, "You're very good at pep-talks."

"I am only being honest, and _that_ I can promise you...will never change," he leaned down and brushed his lips over her cheek in a chaste kiss.

They were about to enter Caridan's Cross when Selene started feeling the taint in her blood react. She gave Andre a panicked look and found that he was wearing one similar. The dark spawn were closing in on them. There were a lot of them. She could feel them. Like insects skittering across her skin. She stretched out her senses to see if she could somehow navigate them away from the bulk of their pursuers and found to her great alarm that they were surrounded. The dark spawn had evidently sensed them for some time and had laid a trap for them. Selene choked down the horror so that she could face the recruits.

"There are dark spawn coming! Weapon's at the ready!" she shouted and unsheathed Starfang and Duncan's sword. She faced the tunnel where she felt the creatures coming at them the fastest. Her idea being that if she could try and clear out one tunnel she could use the close proximity to funnel the dark spawn and they would not be overwhelmed from all sides. "For the Grey Wardens!" she bellowed and charged down the stone corridor.

When they reached the band closing in on them she ignored their numbers for fear that she might freeze in battle. She crossed her blades in a dual weapons sweep taking down three genlocks simultaneously. Keeping her mind focused on the dance of battle, she whirled and parried trying not to think of whether or not Andre was alright. She heard him on occasion, his normally silky voice belting out war cry after war cry. The whistling of silverite steel as it cut through the air as he felled foe after foe comforted her.

She lost count of how many she cut down. But the steady stream of snarling creatures wore her already tired body down. She started repeating her dual weapon's exercises in her head to keep focused. "Parry, duck, sweep, strike," over and over until it was a kind of litany to keep the monsters at bay.

"Watch out Selene!" she heard Andre call out to her and she turned her head to where he called from and found his eyes widened in horror. She turned her head back to where he was looking and the last thing she saw before the darkness was a massive ogre fist. Then it was blackness.

* * *

Andre saw Selene go down and tried to rush to her side. But the group of dark spawn he had been fighting off quickly overwhelmed him, piling on him. Each trying to rip him to shreds. He struggled and roared and twisted, all to no avail. Just as he thought he was going to be mauled to death by the twisted creatures he felt a blast of cold. The creatures froze around him. Taking the opportunity given to him by what he could only presume was Xephi's impeccable timing, he kicked the nearest creature as hard as he could would a heavy plated boot. The monster shattered into bloody frozen fragments.

He then scrambled to his feet and grabbed his greatsword from the ground where it had fallen and finished the creatures off before they thawed. He scanned the area hurriedly for his beloved and could not find her. "Xephi!" he roared hoping that the mage knew where she was.

The Mage lit a dark spawn on fire and grinned mercilessly, "Busy!" he called back over his shoulder.

The three recruits that remained chased off the rest of their attackers and cheered, clapping each other on the back.

Andre stalked up to the Mage and grabbed him by the collar whipping him around to face him, "Where...is..she!" he said menacingly.

Xephi's eyebrows drew together in confusion and then he glanced around. "Maker's balls! She was right...there...a moment ago..." he trailed off.

"You didn't see her get attacked by that Ogre?" Andre released the slighter man with a look of disgust. "What were you doing!?"

"Saving your ass!" Xephi growled.

Andre ignored him in favor of stalking over to where he last saw Selene, he knelt as he came upon a trail of what appeared to be blood, leading deep into the tunnel system. "Where does this lead?" he turned and asked the mage with a dark expression.

Xephi took the map out of a robe pocket and examined it. "Well...looks like Kal'Hirol. You know...the _other _city full of short smelly ale drinker's."

Andre looked down at the trail of blood again and narrowed his eyes then back at the recruits that were left with the same expression. "Can you find your way back to Orzammar from here?"

Xephi's eyes widened. "See here, if you're going off to rescue her...I want in," he crossed his arms indignantly.

"No," Andre said sharply. "We can't afford to lose the rest of the recruits. She would be...very upset if we got them killed trying to save her. Ser Mage...you have to get them out of here. I will find her, or I shall die trying."

"You're really not going to let me go...are you?" Xephi asked incredulously.

"My mind is set. If you can find your way back without use of the map, leave it with me as well as the extra water skins, health poultices and Injury kits. It looks as though she was injured and then dragged off," he looked back down at the blood trail again, his blue eyes the color of steel.

"Fine, be the sodding damn hero all by yourself...I'm certain she'll just _love_ you for that," Xephi's sarcastic tone was laced with anger. "Just so as you know, I'm telling her that this was all your brilliant plan and I had nothing to do with it!"

Andre nodded and set about digging through the packs for the supplies he would need. "I will keep my oath, my love," he said softly to himself. "You shall not die alone."

* * *

"I'm sure his majesty can appreciate the danger that Lady Cousland represents," Eamon's polished aristocrat's voice left Alistair with a creepy feeling.

He covered it well with a lifting of the royal right brow. "Reeaally?" he drawled out humorously. "Because from the way I saw it, 'the den of corruption and rebellion' as you so aptly put it, didn't even have a spare bed for Ferelden's King. The Keep is populated mostly by scared common folk looking for refuge."

Eamon clearly didn't expect that answer because his large feathery gray eyebrows drew together for a moment before he recovered himself. Alistair inwardly cheered, '_King Alistair-1, Chancellor Eamon-0'_.

"What about Vigil's Keep in Amaranthine? Or Weisshaupt Fortress? Surely his Majesty knows that the Warden Commander is gathering a large army. Large enough to easily overtake us in our weakened state. The blight took a heavy toll on Ferelden's defenses, your Majesty. We have all we can do to maintain an adequate presence on our borders with Orlais," the old man droned.

"And why would Selene ever do such a thing?" Alistair growled.

"Your Majesty, surely you can see that the loss of her connection with you and the power that it promised her has driven her to seek to regain her hold on the throne?" Eamon folded his arms and attempted to stare the King down just as he had always done when Alistair was a young boy.

Alistair stood from the chair behind his desk and rose to his full height. He crossed the room to Eamon and stood directly in front of the older man, forcing Eamon to look up at his King.

"Eamon, ever have I been grateful that you raised me at the request of my Father. But I believe that my debt to you was paid in full when I suggested to the Warden Commander that we seek out the Urn of Sacred Ashes, so that _you_ would live," Alistair stared down his nose at the man with disgust. "Do you know that the woman in question is rather close to an assassin? An ex-Antivan Crow, I think you might remember him."

Eamons face paled and Alistair let an evil smirk spread across his face, "Good, then I think we have an understanding. But in case we don't, let me make myself perfectly clear. I will never act against Selene Cousland, her family or her heirs. Nor will I ever act against the Grey Wardens. And if _you_ make a move on any of them...I will have you hanged and your family stripped of its titles and holdings. Are...we...clear!?" his voice had gotten progressively louder the more he spoke and he ended on a bellow.

"Crystal," Eamon's voice was clipped, carefully controlled. But years of knowing the man indicated to Alistair that Eamon got the message and was not happy about it. He bowed stiffly and left the room.

Alistair sat back down behind his desk and when Eamon shut the door behind him he deflated in his seat. He knew Eamon, he would never just let this go. He passed a hand over his face. "This is why I hate being King," he mumbled to himself. "Its like babysitting a bunch of toddlers...now if I can only get them to learn how to share and play nice...life would be soooo much easier."

He gestured one of his guards over to him, "Bertram?"

The guard crossed the room to him quickly and knelt before him, his head bowed. "Yes, my liege?"

Alistair chuckled, "That's another thing, you're my personal guard. Do you think that I can possibly get you to call me, Alistair?"

The guard was only a little older than the young King, perhaps by five years. But already he sported gray streaks at his temples. The rest of his hair was thick and black and cut much like the Kings. He had a thick beard and Alistair kept him around mostly because he was very much like his former Mentor, Duncan. His voice was gruff and deep and his bellow could be heard from one end of the Landsmeet Hall to the other. The man could also keep up with Oghren in a drinking contest. Which did much to endear him to the younger man. Bertram raised a bushy eyebrow at Alistair, "Begging his Highness's pardon but I believe calling you by your given name would imply to the other guards that I'm better than them...and while true," he grinned at Alistair's chuckle. "I have enough trouble watching your back without having to also watch my own."

Alistair's face fell a moment and then he sighed. "I have something that needs doing, and you're the only one I trust to do it. I'd ask Oghren, or Wynne...but the Dwarf can't keep anything to himself and Wynne...well, Wynne would not like this. At all. I know I don't like it," Alistair grumbled.

"You have but to ask, my King," Bertram inclined his head again.

Alistair sighed. "If you go down to the Pearl, you'll find a woman by the name of Isabella," Alistair laughed at the look that Bertram was giving him. "No no no...its not like that! We have a mutual friend that I need her to get a message to. You'll have to remember it because I'm not writing it down in case you should fall into the wrong hands."

"I am ready, Sire," Bertram nodded.

"Tell her: 'The Rose needs the protection of the Raven.' And that, 'The Raven will know what to do if he talks to the Big Cheese.'...did you get all that?" the King asked worriedly. Bertram had a decidedly confused look on his face.

Bertram nodded, "Not that I understand it, but yes."

Alistair laughed, "Well good, you aren't supposed to."

"How will I know this...Isabella?" Bertram asked.

"Just my type, beautiful, dangerous...likes really pointy sharp...swords," Alistair grinned and clapped the guard on the back.

* * *

**Author's note: Thank you all for waiting so patiently while I struggled through this. As always thanks to Melismo for being a "spectaculous" editor. **


	8. Chapter 8

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction **

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 8: The Rose, The Raven & The Bard**

"_Arrrr! Pirate Zevran reporting for duty! Prepare to be boarded!" -Zevran_

_

* * *

  
_

Fergus Cousland, Teryn of Highever, was annoyed. No...he was more than annoyed he was thoroughly put out. His little sister had sent an Orlesian Bard to 'watch over him'. '_Of all the preposterous-', _he grumbled inwardly. At the moment the woman in question was sitting primly in a crimson dress on a chaise lounge; she was reading a book and her full pink lips held the hint of a smile.

As if sensing she was being looked at she glanced up at him with her pale blue eyes and the hint of a smile turned into a dazzling one. Rather than admit that the smile warmed him he put his booted feet up on the desk once belonging to his grandfather and leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "So, you knew my sister well?" he posed the question mostly because he was tired of the silence. The silence allowed observance and the observance allowed admiration. And at this point the admiration made him feel...strangely guilt free. And while Fergus could understand that after over a year since Oriana had passed that it was natural for him to move on, he couldn't help but have a nagging doubt that it was somehow wrong to do so.

"Oh yes, Selene is a treasured friend. We spent many nights on guard together, telling tales and singing songs," she closed the book and set it on her lap. "She is an extraordinary woman."

Fergus let out a bark of laughter, "Don't tell me that my little sister actually sang? Tell me, did she get any better at it or can she still break glass with her screeching?"

Leliana giggled, "I do not know, we did not have many things made out of glass while we were on the road. But yes, I imagine that her efforts could have shattered crystal."

They laughed together for awhile and Leliana stopped long before Fergus. When he was called back from memory he found her round face and large eyes watching him. He tilted his head to the side and regarded her. "So, you are an Orlesian Bard. I hear those are quite dangerous. How did you come to travel with my sister?"

The redhead looked away from him then, a blush on her pale cheeks. "I...was betrayed by someone I loved in Orlais. I...found myself in Lothering and took shelter at the Chantry during a terrible storm. When the storm cleared...I stayed. Until the Blight drove Selene north. When I found her I was in the tavern getting information, as I was about to travel. Selene came into the Tavern, with a swagger that I have come to associate with your family," she giggled again as Fergus raised an eyebrow. "She is very confident, your sister," she explained.

Fergus nodded, "A Cousland trait, you are correct. Some may call it arrogance, but it helps us to inspire the people in our charge. Go on," he prompted.

"Well," she leaned forward in her seat, her eyes alight with excitement at being able to share the tale. "There were soldier's in the Tavern, Teryn Loghain's soldier's. They had been there all day, making themselves a bane on the weary refugees. They were there looking for her, you see. When they saw her enter they confronted her. She stood her ground, proud and unafraid. I knew then that she was what I was looking for. A strong hero alone against impossible odds. My wish you see was to find a way to stop the Blight. What better way to do that than to follow one of the last Grey Wardens of Ferelden, yes? Yes," she laughed.

Fergus chuckled, "Selene never wanted to be a hero, she just wanted to make Father proud of her. She was always his little shadow. Following after him wherever he went, learning all that she could about fighting and leading. She dreamed of leading our army one day. With me as Teryn she said that I would need to stay at home and keep out of trouble. She took her duty to Highever very seriously," he smiled fondly at the memory.

"Yes, she also took her duty as a Grey Warden very seriously," she nodded. "When the soldiers challenged her I stepped in. They outnumbered her and her companions and I did not yet know how they would fare in a battle. So I approached and tried to placate them. Well, as you can imagine...your sister told me to mind my own business, and that if they wanted a fight she would be happy to let them have one," she grinned.

"That sounds like my little sister, she was always a scrapper!" he laughed.

"The brawl was over before it had begun, and they surrendered. I convinced her to let them go, though the look she gave me chilled me to the bone. She sent them away with a message for Teryn Loghain. 'Tell that traitor that the Grey Wardens know his crime and that we are coming for him.' she said. They scrambled over themselves trying to get away from her. I have never seen a woman inspire so much fear in men's hearts before," she placed her elbows on the book in her lap and cradled her head in her hands, her eyes got a far away look.

"And then she agreed to let you come with her?" he prompted, thoroughly enthralled by the Bard's lilting accent.

"Well, at the time I had been living as a lay sister in the Chantry. I chose to stay before then and become affirmed, I had not taken any vows. But as the dark spawn swarmed the land I decided to leave that life behind, to find a way to help stop the blight. At the time I had no money to buy proper armor, so when she found me I was still in my chantry robes," she tilted her head to the side in her hands and smiled. "She told me to help the people there and that she could not use me, even though I helped her fight off Loghain's men. Trust me when I say, that it took every ounce of my considerable persuasive skills to convince her that I could be useful."

"Truly that in itself is a marvel, once my sister's mind is made up she rarely ever changes it. Your skills must be formidable," he grinned.

Leliana blushed and tried to cover it by standing and brushing off her dress. She went to a book shelf and put the book she had been reading away.

"So, you were an Orlesian Bard, you must know a few good tales," Fergus grinned when she smiled happily at the change in subject.

"Of course, I love stories! Would you like to hear one?" she sat down again, this time in a chair next to the fire.

"I would be much obliged, my duties are done for the day and the castle is lonely without...well, everyone," he finished with an empty tone.

Leliana nodded sympathetically and started telling him the story of Dane and the Werewolf.

* * *

From the moment he lost Selene in the fight against the dark spawn, Andre felt an emptiness the like of which he had never known. She had become as much a part of him as the heart that she had captivated.

It preyed upon him, this emptiness...and he had no doubt that going mad from the taint could never be as torturous as not knowing whether the woman he loved was dead, or alive.

Life was a cruel mistress. First it took his father, then his Mother, then his life as a Knight...the only thing he had heretofore now aspired to be. And now...now that he had begun life anew with someone so precious, that life was ebbing away from him. Like the tide going out. And he could not catch it and keep it close...no matter how many times he grasped its receding waters. It seemed he was always destined to come out with a handful of sand.

He had followed the trail of Selene's blood far into the deep roads, through Ortan Thaig and the Dead trenches. After a days worth of travel, he finally reached it. The Ruins of Kal'Hirol. Once the Capital of study for the Smithing Class, The Fortress of Kal'Hirol now lay in ruin. He could tell that the place had been overrun with darkspawn, the same fleshy growths that surrounded the broodmother's that they had killed littered the landscape, as if threatening to swallow the ruins whole within their bulbous masses.

Resisting the urge to wretch, Andre pulled forth his Great Sword...slowly. The only sound was the rasping of its Dragonbone steel clearing the harness. Stepping lightly, he picked his way through the crumbling citadel. If he lost the element of surprise now, he might not make it to her before they killed her brutally. They might not be particularly bright creatures, but their cruelty knew no bounds.

He hadn't gone but a few dozen paces when he came upon a dwarven warrior. He was dressed in the black armor and his face was decorated in the manner of the famed Legion of the dead. He was heavily wounded and crawling with his forearms. His legs dangled behind him as though they had both been broken. Andre knelt before the man and the warrior looked up, surprise on his face.

"Easy friend, you are wounded? Are you here alone?" Andre set his hand upon the dwarf's shoulder and the fellow hissed. Andre took his hand away hurriedly. When the dwarf opened his eyes he saw the reason for the man's reaction. The irises and pupils of his eyes were silvered. He had been infected with the taint and soon he would turn into a ghoul...and then make the inevitable progression to dark spawn if he did not die first. The man's very blood would cause him pain. As Andre well remembered.

A sharp cry rang out from behind him and he was knocked flat onto his back. A solid weight suddenly perched on his chest and cold steel was pressed uncomfortably into his exposed throat. He opened his eyes to find a female dwarf in similar armor, her face marked in dark red Legionnaire tattoos and the marks of the casteless. She glared down at him, "You have five minutes to explain why you're down here before I chop your head off, surfacer."

Ser Perth lifted an eyebrow. After having his town overrun with undead, helping the Warden Commander kill three broodmothers, and the hundreds of dark spawn he must have dispatched over the last year, he found it hard to summon up the kind of fear she had intended her comment to instill. "I'm a Grey Warden," he said simply.

The woman's face instantly relaxed from its angry position and calmly settled into one of amusement. "You have my condolences," she grinned and then took the dagger from his neck. That done she scrambled off him and went to check on her comrade.

By the time Ser Perth collected himself the man was dead and the woman that had attacked him was closing the corpses eyes and whispering prayers for him to be accepted back into the stone. With a last glance at the body of her fallen friend she stood and faced Ser Perth. "He was a good friend," she said quietly.

"I am sorry I did not get here sooner. My name is Andre, do you know what happened here?" he asked. Time was of the essence and he needed to know the situation before he went charging in to save Selene.

"I'm Sigrun.. My company and I came to these ruins because we spotted a group of darkspawn carrying a live human female with them, we thought they meant to turn her. They do that to females," she said by way of explanation. "But we were ambushed. I'm the only one left," she said sadly. "I was about to go down gloriously avenging my fellow Legionnaires, before you showed up."

Andre latched onto the mention of the human female. "Did you see where they took the woman?" he asked with a hint of impatience. He could not afford to waste time comforting the dwarven woman.

Sigrun tilted her head to the side, "Know her, do ya?"

He nodded, "She's the Grey Warden Commander."

Sigrun's eye's widened. "You've got to be joking! The Grey Warden Commander has been captured and the only one that came to save her was you?"

Andre allowed himself a chuckle, "Well, I didn't exactly have a lot of time to run back to Orzammar and gather a search party. I don't know how long it will take for her to turn, and I don't want to take that chance. I swore an oath to her that she would not die alone in the deep roads. I keep my oaths... as does she," he picked up his Sword and started walking off in the direction of the Fortress. "You're welcome to come with me, Sigrun," he offered. He could use all the help he could get.

She looked him over, as if sizing him up. When it seemed she finally reached a conclusion she smiled widely. "Ok big guy. Sounds like fun. I have a broodmother to kill and you have a commander to save. I'll help you, you help me."

Andre gave her a thankful smile, "Come...let us put these monsters in their place, shall we?"

She laughed, "Mister, you're speaking my language."

* * *

Selene's world was full of pain. It throbbed behind her eyelids and screamed through her nerve endings. She had awoken in pitch blackness, her face pressed to cool stone, her body devoid of armor and dressed only a pair of trousers and a shirt. Her first attempt at standing met with failure as she took a few wobbly steps and promptly sat down as her senses confused up and down, giving the impression that the floor was moving beneath her feet.

After some time she was able to feel her way around what she eventually came to realize was a room that she had been locked into. She was alone and for the mean time that meant she could think of a way to get out of there. But she also had no equipment, which meant she also had no injury kit with which to deal with her head wound. She could feel a laceration in her scalp that must have bled quite bit. It seemed to have stopped but she had no doubt that soon infection would set in and she would have more to worry about than a case of vertigo. That and a nasty scar.

She sunk down against the door to the room, the unmarred back of her head leaning against the metal. She wondered if she was in a dungeon of sorts. The shackles she found riveted to the stone walls indicated as much. And if she was, then where was she? Who had brought her here? She had a hard time believing that the dark spawn had enough presence of mind to hold her hostage, rather than simply kill her, or turn her. The Archdemon was gone, and they should not be able to lay traps or behave in the way that she had seen. She thought back to that day that she felt as if the creatures were specifically seeking her out.

How could that be? The dark spawn were mindless, utterly incapable of thinking for themselves...weren't they? She groaned as a stab of sharp pain reminded her that her abused head was not all that interested in the act of thinking at the moment. She closed her eyes and soon her eyelids grew heavy and she slipped back in to unconsciousness.

* * *

Bertram arrived at the Pearl and immediately found the woman he was seeking. The King had given an apt description of her. She was the only woman in the place with her blades out. She was fighting three others in a corner of the establishment. There were playing cards all over the floor around her, '_Perhaps they lost badly?' _he wondered.

He watched in fascination as she weaved and ducked, her blades flashing and the clang of metal on metal as she met the heavier blows of her opponents. He had seen Master Swordsmen before, but Isabella was so much more, she was an artist. Never had he seen such mastery, such effortless use of blades. Soon the brigands were running out of the room, looking back over their shoulders in fear that the woman would chase after them like a rage demon. When he turned from them to regard her once again he found wide blue eyes regarding him from under a tangle of brown shoulder-length hair. The style gave her a carefree look. As if she spent a lot of time enjoying an ocean breeze upon her face. Her tanned skin did much to support that theory.

"Hello there, sweet-thing," she purred. "Come to challenge me to a duel as well? Or are you looking for something a little less dangerous and much more...enjoyable?"

Bertram swallowed hard. This woman would eat him alive, if he wasn't careful. "Your pardon, mi'lady. I come on behalf of someone we both know."

Her sculpted eyebrows lifted in surprise and she gestured for him to take a seat. He did so cautiously. He could sense that any sudden or wrongly made moves would earn him a blade at his throat.

She nodded her approval and sat down gracefully. "Now then, who seeks my help?"

"I was told to deliver a message, and that you would know its meaning and take appropriate action," he said.

"Go on," she folded her arms and leaned back in her chair.

"The Rose needs the protection of the Raven, and the Raven will know what to do if he talks to the Big Cheese," he repeated the message exactly the way Alistair had told him.

Isabella's face paled slightly. "I see. Well, I will get the Raven the message. Tell the 'Big Cheese' that 'The Wind has carried the message to The Raven and The Rose shall be kept safe.'"

Bertram's face screwed up in irritation and Isabella chuckled. "Can you remember that, love?" she teased.

Bertram's face pinked under his beard. "Aye woman," he growled.

Isabella pulled her lower lip between her teeth and tilted her head to the side. "Fancy a bit of fun before you go back to the 'Big Cheese'?"

A grin spread itself over the bearded fellows face. "I suppose, my lady. That would depend on your idea of fun."

* * *

Alistair was in his study when his faithful guard returned to report his success. Alistair couldn't help the knowing smile that broke out over his face.

When his guard scowled at him and grumbled back the message that Isabella had sent, the King laughed. "Oh come on now, was it really that hard?"

"You know, for the first hour and a half it was... but that woman could break a Qunari," he groused.

Alistair guffawed. "I should have warned you, but if you could just see your face!"

"I'm glad that sending me into that place of ill-repute to be devoured by the mother of all desire demons has brought joy into your life, Sire," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry, truly!" Alistair's laughter tapered off into snickering and finally he wiped his eyes and clapped his friend on the back. "So, now we wait. And I will warn you this time, The Raven will most likely sneak in here and take us by surprise. Try not cut his head off before you find out who he is, alright?"

"As his Majesty commands," Bertram bowed and then turned to walk very slowly to stand guard at the study door.

Alistair averted his eyes and covered his mouth to keep from laughing again. He remembered how it was when he and Selene had bargained with the duelist for her knowledge of the craft. His own cheeks pinked as he remembered two sets of feminine hands roaming over his body and the resulting twinge his legs and hips had suffered through for a week afterwards.

"Ah," he sighed fondly. "Good times."

As always when he thought of his fellow Warden, the one thought led to other thoughts, both similar and different. He owed her so much, and yet...what had he given her in return? Nothing but a broken heart and a responsibility that he had not even asked her if she wanted.

He never wanted to be King. And yet, she made him one. In more ways than one. He wished that he could explain to her that when they first met he was a boy in a man's body. A boy that didn't know the first thing about women's hearts or his own for that matter. All he had by way of guidance was his own sense of honor, justice and the examples of others.

He'd placed his trust in Eamon, because he was a respected man and loved by the people. He had not once thought until now that his advice to let Selene go was anything other than noble. If they had stayed together, Eamon would have had no control over Alistair. The young King would always turn to his wife for advice first, in fact...Alistair may have even told Eamon that he was not needed any further than his service as Arl of Redfcliffe. How different things would now be if he'd just followed his heart and married Selene.

Though they'd likely never would have had children of their own he could still imagine that it might have been possible. He'd just never heard of two Grey Wardens even attempting it as the only ones that had children had them before the joining or with a non-Warden. But as he should have realized after all the things that he and Selene had accomplished, the impossible is sometimes not that hard to achieve. You never know what can or cannot be done unless you try.

For perhaps the millionth time he cursed his thoughtlessness and his immaturity and wished that he could just set things right between them. To go back and tell her how very wrong he was, and that he loved her. She was with someone else now. The memory of them standing together in her doorway brought a familiar anger to the surface, as well as guilt. He had no right to be angry. And yet he was.

It should be him...he should be the one holding her, touching her...making love to her into the early morning hours.

He could only hope that he could at least show her how far he'd come as a man. He prayed to the Maker and his beloved Andraste that he would one day get that chance. Enlisting the help of the Antivan Assassin could only help in that area. She knew how much he disliked the elf. He hoped she would be touched by the gesture. He and the ex-Crow had an arrangement when it came to her. They would work together in this on her behalf. She would be safe, no matter the cost. Alistair was not the only one to have fallen in love with her, after all.

* * *

"Zev," a familiar silky feminine voice purred into the handsome blonde elf's ear. And he reached out and pulled the soft body it belonged to down with him onto her bed. She was not wearing her armor or any other trappings of the outside world. For months it had just been he and she sharing her cabin on the _Siren's Call__._ Zevran had no illusions as to his place at this woman's side. He was a bringer of information and a willing bedmate...nothing more.

"Isabella, my dear. Do I detect the smell of another man on you? Tsk tsk...and here I thought you nice enough to share," he nipped at her throat and his hand stole its way into her shift. His nimble fingers danced over her skin.

Her tinkling laughter pleased him. "Now, now, my sweet Assassin. No need to be jealous. He was interesting but not all that inventive. It was good exercise," she toyed with his silky blond hair and traced over his tattoo lightly with her fingertips.

He chuckled, his voice rich and dark, like fine chocolate, "Well then, my reputation as a spectacular lover is safe."

"He brought a message from the King," she said after some strategic caresses elicited an approving growl from his lips.

"Oh?" he reached out and stilled her hands from their methodical movements.

She sighed knowing that he would most likely not follow through with her lustful plans once she gave the message to him, "It seems that our lovely Commander is having a bit of trouble. Alistair desires your presence at the Palace."

"Mmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "I suppose then that I should pay a visit to my good friend Alistair, no?"

"I think that would be wise," she moved her hand over his bare chest, savoring the feel of his well defined musculature. "Perhaps, after you've slaked my thirst?"

"No dinner? Flower's? Gifts of lethal poison?" he chuckled. "My dear Isabella, how you spoil me!"

* * *

**Author's note: Hey there lovely peeple! How's my Zevran? Does he need work? Thank you as always to Melismo. Both for the beta-goodness and the encouragement.**


	9. Chapter 9

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 9:**

_"Ha! Let's see... When was the last time I slipped my hand into some dark hole? Hmmm... Long story, that." -Zevran Arainai_

* * *

Andre and Sigrun made their way towards the fortress with relative ease. And if there was one thing that the Knight learned that day about his new comrade, it was that she was made out of grit, nails, and a biting wit. All of which in his frantic state he had come to appreciate greatly. Just when he felt that he might indeed die down there before finding Selene, Sigrun was at his back...urging him forward...keeping him steady. She was small but fearless. And oddly chipper for someone whose entire organization was dead. Andre didn't know what to make of the dwarf.

They reached the entrance to the Main hall and Sigrun reached up and grabbed his elbow, pulling him back from his determined march up the front steps. "That's where we were ambushed, just inside the main door. We can't get in that way," she said.

Andre blinked at her. He had thought that they were just overwhelmed, as his own group had been. "You mean to tell me that they set a trap?" he asked incredulously.

She shook her head, "The dark spawn are different now; they're smarter."

Andre almost dropped his sword, he managed to sheath it in the shoulder harness before looking back down upon her with trepidation. "How do you know this?"

She shifted from one foot to another and nibbled her bottom lip as if contemplating how to explain. "When we went in, there was one dark spawn that was different from the others. He spoke. He even shouted orders to the other dark spawn. I don't know how, but I think they're evolving."

Had there been someplace to sit Andre would have done so, and heavily. Instead he knelt so that he could be face to face with her. "This changes everything, Sigrun. We need to get to her, now. We can't afford to tarry any longer. If they are truly intelligent now, as you say. Then they will know who she is. She won't simply be turned. I fear what they might have in store for her," he met her eyes with worry.

"You love her don't you?" she smiled knowingly at the Knight.

He nodded, "More than is probably healthy, actually."

She chuckled, "Well look, big guy. You aren't alone here, we'll get your girlfriend back," she punched him playfully on the shoulder and Andre was surprised to find that it actually smarted a little bit.

* * *

Zevran Arainai, ex-Antivan Crow, famous lover, and now a shadowy mercenary going by the name of 'The Raven', crept his way along the outer walls of the Royal Palace in Denerim. Certainly, it might be easier to simply, shall we say...waltz right up to the Royal Guard and announce his presence. But where is the fun in that?

He ducked into a shadowed alcove as a pair of guards dressed in Silverite Heavy Chainmail,stormed by him. He clucked his tongue at their failure to notice him and smiled to himself. This would be much easier than he first assumed.

The Palace was much as he remembered it. There were a few changes here and there. Like the removal of paintings of Queen Anora and her Father. Lone portraits of the late Cailan and his Father Maric, still hung in their original places of honor. As if taking them down would defile their memories. Such things were handled with much more thoroughness in Antiva. When a new ruler took the throne, (usually by violent uprisings and murder) all traces of the old dynasty were swiftly taken out and burnt in a great bonfire ceremony. Followed by drinking and parties where the participants would often go home with people other than they came with. Ahhh, how he missed his glittering jewel, his Antivan City.

He used his considerable skills at stealth and drew the shadows around him like a cloak. Which let him slip unnoticed behind a guard that was entering the King's study, where he assumed his good friend Alistair would be spending the majority of his time. Once inside he stuck to a poorly lit corner of the room, well away from the firelight.

From there he watched the guard report to the King that all was well in the castle and that no one called 'The Raven' had come to the front gate to ask for an audience. Alistair dismissed them and when they were gone, the only other armed man in the room was the King's personal guard. Who fit the description of Isabella's little adventure quite nicely.

Zevran turned his attention on the young King. A young man who had up until the moment he crushed her heart was his romantic rival for the fair Selene Cousland's love. A man that Zevran had almost killed for hurting the woman he had come to care for deeply.

Selene was a marvel. Beautiful, dangerous, sexy, and a wonder to behold on the battle field. All these things alone would be enough to completely enrapture the Assassin. But what he fell in love with was her compassion, her sense of purpose and iron will.

The ex-templar now King had almost broken that will by pushing her away. Zevran looked the man over and could easily see what she had seen in him in the first place, however. The strong handsome face had golden skin. The perpetual presence of stubble on his chin gave the King a bit of a rugged look.

With a wide grin upon his handsome elven face, he crept along the edges of the room, skillfully avoiding the large empty suits of armor along the walls. Soon he was three feet from the King. Drawing in a deep breath he jumped out from the shadows landing right behind the King.

"Surprise!" Zevran shouted. And he was rewarded for his efforts by being knocked flat on his back with a very large sword being pointed at his throat and the King's face grinning down at him from above.

"Really? 'Surprise'? You couldn't think of anything better to shout as you snuck up on me?" Alistair's voice was mocking and the corners of his velvety soft lips curled into a smile. "I think you're losing your touch, Zev."

Zevran tilted his head to the side, his honey brown eyes twinkling mischievously. "If that is how one gets to roll around on the floor with a handsome Monarch, I do not think it was such a bad thing."

Alistair felt his ears redden and he scowled at the elf beneath him. He pulled the lighter man up by the collar of his tunic and then released him roughly. "I can see you're still the same," he mumbled.

Zevran chuckled, "You expect anything less than perfection from the great Zevran? How you wound me!"

Alistair snorted in derision and then scanned the room to find Bertram gaping at the two men, his hand on the hilt of his sword as if he had been in the process of drawing it. "Bertram, 'The Raven' or Zevran Arainai," he gestured to the elf. "Zev...that slack-jawed bushy bearded sorry excuse for a personal guard, is Bertram Woolsey**." **

Bertram raised a bushy eyebrow at his sovereign and stepped forward, removing his hand from the sword hilt, he held it out to the Assassin in greeting.

Zevran took it in his own and shook it, when he let go he looked the man over. "So, you are the 'exercise' our dear Isabella was telling me about."

Rather than dignify that with an answer, Bertram just scowled blackly and turned to the King, whom to his credit was doing his best not to laugh. "Your Majesty, I will be outside the door if you need me," he bowed and stomped out.

Once he was gone Alistair allowed himself a good laugh. Once finished he sat down and regarded his old traveling companion. The elf had truly not changed one bit. He was dressed in the same drakeskin leather armor that Selene had bought him. He had the same weapons strapped to his back. The elegant facial tattoo was still highlighted by a wisp of silky fine blond hair.

"Alistair, I find it hard to imagine, as handsome as I know I am...that you called me here simply to stare at me luridly," Zevran purred.

Alistair's eyes widened, "I...you...GAH!" he threw his hands up in the air and turned away from the elf. "I hate it when you do that!"

"As well I know," Zevran chuckled. "Now, what has happened to our beautiful Grey Warden, mmm?"

Alistair ran a hand through his hair and then rubbed the back of his neck. "I can't be certain, but I think that Eamon is up to something. Selene has already told me that if I can't keep him under control she might do something...well...not good."

"Assassinating the Chancellor?" Zevran looked a little surprised. "That does not seem like Selene. She would do anything in her power to take care of him in a very public manner, and honorably."

"She's changed Zev," Alistair passed a tired hand over his face. "I did that to her."

Zevran's face hardened. "As much as I like you, Alistair. I will admit to almost killing you that day."

Alistair looked up with surprise on his face...and a little resignation. "I almost wish you had."

It was Zevran's turn to look surprised. Which is no small feat, being that nothing really surprised him anymore. "That you seem to have seen the error of your ways however, says a lot for your continued survival."

Alistair snorted in derision, "Survival is not the same as living, you know that."

Zevran sighed tiredly. "So, my good friend Alistair. As the priestess so famously said to the handsome actor: What now?"

"I need you to go to her, protect her, keep an eye out for traps, ambushes and the like," Alistair looked older to Zevran's eyes. The boy had grown to a man. And the man was afraid. "We might not be able to have her, Zev. But that doesn't mean that we can't protect her. And Maker, does she ever need it. Especially from herself. Eamon might not know who he's dealing with, but neither does she."

Zevran allowed himself a bitter laugh, "Truly? After all that we've been through you'd think that she'd learn not to underestimate her enemies."

* * *

When Selene again awoke she was being dragged by her arms by two Hurlocks. She allowed the bangs of her shortened hair to fall over her eyes, shielding the fact that she had awakened without their notice. She remained limp as she glanced around to gain her bearings. She was in a room with small stone bridges over hot lava. At the center of the room was a small stairway that led to an empty cage over the molten rock. They dragged her in that direction, so she could only assume that's where they meant to take her. There were no others around, so she took a deep breath and then used the Hurlocks' grip on her to lever her feet underneath her. In their stunned surprise they released her and she heaved upwards as she planted her feet, knocking them both down.

She swiftly pulled a sword free of the scabbard fastened behind the shield of one and whirled on the other, separating its head from its shoulders. In the same move she swung the sword downwards and under her left elbow and shoved the blade deep into the Hurlock advancing at her back. She pulled the sword free and turned to watch it sink to its knees and then fall forwards on it misshapen face. The smell of the dead creatures combined with the sulfur of the lava flows washed over her and before she knew it she was dry heaving and fighting off a wave of dizziness so profound that she questioned whether or not she would make it out of here alive.

"Maker," she breathed out and wiped sour tasting spittle from her lips. "Kill me now, or give me the strength to drag my sorry ass out of here!" she mumbled in a half-hearted prayer to a God she was beginning to doubt the existence of.

She took a few deep breaths and then held her breath. She straightened and quickly searched the bodies of the creatures. She found a lone lesser injury kit on one, and a health poultice on the other. She stumbled back from the bodies and sucked in a breath or two of air before she passed out. Once she had gotten her breathing under control, she applied both the kit and the poultice and felt the wound in her scalp tingle and her vitals marginally improve. Though, not a hundred percent better, she no longer felt as if she would totter into a magma pit at any moment.

With the scavenged darkspawn sword in one hand and a dagger she found by in the other she decided it was high time she found her way out of this hole. Wherever this hole was.

She walked on for some time, she searched every corridor, every abandoned room. Everywhere she went there were clues into the past of the place, each new discovery brought sadness to her soul. The ghosts of the past still fought on bravely, defending against the dark spawn that had slaughtered them mercilessly so long ago. The Shaperate spoke of the stone holding the memories of the past... like dreams. Selene had felt it nonsense at the time, but as she watched those memories played out over and over before her, and heard the uplifting speeches of those rallying their comrades to arms...she couldn't help but wonder how much truth there was to the dwarven religion.

As these thoughts plagued her mind she came upon a room. In the center of the room was a sarcophagus. Surrounding the sarcophagus were Dwarven runes on pressure plates on the floor. She sighed heavily. Normally she would have bypassed such things if she didn't have the time for them, unless urged to do so by Zevran. Such puzzles usually yielded treasure or weapons, or even armor. She needed armor, she certainly wasn't going to last in this flimsy get up that the dark spawn had put her in.

She felt a pang of loss for starfang and Duncan's sword. But, she could always come back another time and find them. Provided she even made it out alive.

She ambled around the room, half heartedly pushing the plates down one after another, and then randomly. Not really seeking a particular pattern. At times she found that if she unfocused her mind or thought of something other than the puzzle, the answer would suddenly come into focus for her. And with her head screaming at her furiously, she had no urge to concentrate. Her thoughts drifted instead to her beloved. She hoped that he was alright. It occurred to her that he may be out there in the deep roads somewhere, searching for her. Or worse, he might be dead. She choked on the sudden lump in her throat and pushed the thought away. She couldn't let herself think like that. The Maker couldn't be so cruel as to deny her love twice in a lifetime. Then again he had let her mother and father, Oren and Oriana be brutally murdered in their own homes, so who was to say that the Maker didn't have a cruel sense of humor?

She was pulled out of these disturbing thoughts as she pressed the last plate down and was rewarded with a click and the sound of stone scraping on stone. She looked up and found that the top of the sarcophagus was being lifted up by the chains running from the top of the lid to the stone ceiling above. When she looked in she found a full suit of armor made out of gleaming white steel. She couldn't help the smile that broke out over her face. She set down her weapons and took the armor out, to her great surprise it fit as if made specifically for her. The greaves, the gloves, the breast plate, all molded to her frame perfectly. She felt certain that there was a story behind this armor, but such a story was lost to time.

* * *

Ser Perth was brooding. And it was driving Sigrun nuggie. She had tried several times to engage him in conversation, but it seemed to her that the further into Kal'Hirol that they went, the more withdrawn he became. She decided that perhaps a little confession would draw him out.

"Here's your dagger back," she said cheerfully.

He turned to her just as they were rounding a corner and looked at the dagger with an arched eyebrow. It was indeed his. He looked down to his belt to find that it was missing. Taking it from her gently so as not to slice her tiny he fingers he looked into her face to find it fairly alight with mischief. "Did I drop this?" he asked with no small amount of confusion.

"Oh, no," she grinned. "I nicked it from your belt. Old habits die hard, you know," her tone was teasing.

Andre's eyebrows drew together and he shoved the dagger back into his belt. "You do realize stealing is wrong?"

She chuckled, "Only if you get caught. And need I remind you that I wasn't caught?"

Andre barked out a laugh. Which felt strange to him as he hadn't laughed since he lost Selene to this Maker-forsaken place. "I suppose that I cannot argue with that logic."

"Good thing too, cause I'd win and then you'd cry. Then the Commander would kick my ass, not pretty," she grinned.

He smiled at her then and Sigrun felt the warmth that one feels when one does a good deed entirely without benefit to oneself. "Thank you Sigrun. I needed that."

"Anytime," she said.

And with that they took the corner together and found themselves face to face with the largest Golem and two of the freakiest looking dark spawn that Sigrun had ever seen. "Oh...nug-butter!" she exclaimed softly.

She looked up at Andre to find his gaze fixated on a point across the room. She followed his line of sight to find a woman on the other side of the room in white shining armor, looking every inch the heroine that Sigrun had imagined her to be. She was watching the exchange between the dark spawn just as they were. Before anyone could react the Golem tore the dark spawn in its grasp in two at the shouted order of the other. The dark spawn remaining shouted something and then noticed them.

"Get them! They will not upset the 'Mother's' plans!" it screeched.

At that point it seemed to Sigrun that everything moved in slow motion. They all drew their weapons. She and Andre took off simultaneously running for the Golem while in her peripheral vision she saw the Commander throw out her arms and lightning...or what looked like lightning cascaded down from the stone over head and knocked the dark spawn off his feet. The Commander bellowed out a warcry that Sigrun could feel in her toes and lunged at the thing with her swords drawn.

Andre had seen his beloved before she had seen him. Her eyes were trained on the exchange that they had stumbled onto, and he could see her cataloging the encounter storing it away for future contemplation.

When the Golem ripped the dark spawn in its grasp in half everyone was propelled into action. Andre went for the biggest creature first, not wanting Selene to have to deal with it in case she was still hurt. He charged the Golem, his Great Sword smashing into the heated stone and almost melting against it before he pulled it away. He staggered back as the initial impact jarred his frame violently. He grimaced and then charged back in. This time going for the joints in the arms and legs, as Sigrun seemed to be doing.

Between the two of them they managed to wear the Golem down. Sigrun launched herself at the thing and delivered the killing blow. It fell and the vibrations almost knocked him on his backside. When it finally lie still at their feet, he searched frantically for Selene, only to find her sneering down at the lone dark spawn she had fought. Her armored boot was planted firmly on the things chest.

"You will not be getting away with this, the Mother will know what you have done here, human! She will avenge 'The Lost' and she will devour you!" its voice was scratchy and gurgling but yet eerily interpretable.

Selene's face twisted into a cruel visage. "Devour this!" she growled and then plunged her blade into the creatures mouth and through the back of its skull, severing the base of the skull from the spinal cord. When she pulled the blade free she stared at the dead creature for some time, as if contemplating its very existence. Which, she very well could have been, being that the creature actually spoke to her.

"Selene," he forced out her name, his voice sounding raw and choked.

Selene's head snapped up and the steel in her eyes softened. She dropped the sword in her grasp and sobbed out his name. They fell into each others arms, kissing each other's faces and hands roaming frantically as though neither could believe the other were real.

He pulled back from her a bit and grasped her face in his hands, "Don't you ever," he kissed her. "Ever," another kiss, "ever do that to me again!" he rested his forehead on hers his eyes closed as he held her close.

"Eww!" came the disgruntled voice of the companion he'd forgotten was even there. "Let me know when you two are finished...I'll just be over there...throwing up."

He chuckled and squeezed his love to him once more before pulling away, but kept her hand still grasped firmly in his. As if afraid that if he let go she would be lost again. "Forgive me," he gestured to the Dwarf. "Selene, this is Sigrun," he grinned. "Sigrun, this is Warden Commander Selene Cousland."

Selene laughed. "Don't listen to him Sigrun, its either Selene...or Commander if you must. But since you helped Andre to find me, I think I would prefer it if you called me Selene."

Sigrun beamed at her. "Well, I for one am glad that we found you. I couldn't take anymore of his mooning over you. Honestly, doesn't he ever stop?"

When Selene regarded her lover with a raised brow she was met only with a silly grin and a shrug. "Alas, Sigrun. Ser Perth seems totally unrepentant of such behavior. I do apologize," she chuckled.

"Eh," Sigrun waved her hand in dismissal. "At least we found you. Anyway, so...I have a brood mother to find in here. So maybe the two of you can help me find it and then we can get the nug out of here?" she said hopefully.

"Oh! Yes, quite right. I'd almost forgotten my promise," Andre turned to look Selene over and frowned. He had finally noticed that she had a wound in her scalp just above her hairline that looked as though it were partially healed by way of injury kit. "Let me get this taken care of, love. Then you can smite the dark spawn with your almighty wrath."

"You say the sweetest things," Selene chuckled.

* * *

**Author's Note: Some of the conversations contained in the chapter is from the game, both Awakenings and Origins. I won't tell you which ones, in case you haven't played all the way through awakenings yet. =P I've noticed that Sigrun and Oghren have this fixation with nugs so I've worked that in here and there. As always, feedback is welcome! Thank you for reading. And like always thanks to Melismo.**

**Also my apologies to Melismo...I accidentally uploaded the unedited version instead of the one with her lovely edits. =( I'm such a dork. lol**


	10. Chapter 10

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 10: The Assassins Chapter**

* * *

If someone were to ask Fergus Cousland if he was hiding from a certain Orlesian Bard he would most likely make various scoffing noises, turn a bright red and then scowl. But alone on the castle ramparts he could admit to himself that he was avoiding her like the plague. It bothered him, this fascination he had with her.

He was hiding up on the ramparts because this seemed to be the one place he could escape the woman. If it wasn't her solid form he was confronted with everywhere he went, it was her specter. She left her scent in his favorite lounging chair, her scarf could be found draped over a bookshelf, or he'd found an earring of hers on the floor of the main hall, he would turn a corner only to glimpse the hem of her skirt as she disappeared through a doorway. All these small seemingly innocuous things kept her constantly on his mind. She flitted through the halls like an errant butterfly, oblivious to the devastation wreaked by the beating of her delicate wings. And '_Maker when she speaks, its like sin wrapped in red velvet'_. He shook the thought from his mind and scowled.

Fergus Cousland was in love, Maker help him.

"Fergus?" the familiar lilt of the Orlesian woman in question reached his ears and his breath caught in his throat.

"Andraste's blood," he swore softly and lifted his head to find she had stealthily crossed the distance between himself and the entrance to the ramparts and was now standing next to him. She was dressed in a dark green dress, the neckline drawing his eyes and he squeezed them shut against the sight of modest yet tempting looking bare creamy white skin. When he again opened them he found the full berry colored lips smiling at him softly, the crystalline blue eyes glittered with understanding and what could almost be...approval?

"You have been hiding up here for most of the day, my Lord," she tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. "Is there something bothering you? Something to do with me perhaps?"

"I apologize, dear Lady. I don't mean to be a terrible host. That was more my Mother's area of expertise," he tried to avoid answering the question by apologizing for abandoning her.

The corner of Leliana's mouth twitched upwards for but a moment and then she turned to look out upon the town of Highever. "Your lands are quite beautiful, I can see why Selene always spoke with such longing for it, the sky even seems a prettier shade of blue here," she said.

Thankful to avoid the question of why he'd been hiding, Fergus hummed in agreement and turned to look out at the town with her. "Yes, I think its the green of the hills in the distance, the way they contrast with the red slate roofing on the houses."

"And that area," she pointed to a place in the town where the houses were a bit closer together, "Why are the houses so crowded there?"

Fergus took a deep breath and let it out, "Once the city of Highever was much like Denerim, that area was the Alienage."

"Oh, I see," Leliana said softly.

"We've taken down the gates and the elves have every right to live elsewhere in the city now, most choose to stay in one area. They believe that if they mingle too much with humans they will lose themselves. But we don't oppress our elven citizens...anymore," he amended.

Leliana smiled, "I was with Selene when we found Tevinter slavers in the Denerim Alienage, she was furious. I have never seen her so...enraged."

Fergus nodded, "Yes, Selene could never tolerate that. I remember as a young girl she had quite the crush on an elven servant boy here in the castle. I was a bit mean to him once, tripped him as I recall. Selene bloodied my nose," he chuckled at the memory.

Leliana laughed softly, "I do not doubt it."

"What are your plans after you leave Highever, Leliana?" Fergus asked before he could stop himself.

The redhead turned and regarded him with a surprised expression. "I-," she paused and then blushed. "I was actually hoping that I could stay in Highever for awhile. There is much about this land that I have come to enjoy...very much so in fact."

"Oh?" Fergus could not help the hopeful expression on his face anymore than he could help breathing.

"Yes," she smiled now. She had been uncertain about his feelings once he started avoiding her, but the expression on his face was all too clear. He felt the same way that she was feeling. "You see, there is someone here that I am coming to care for, he has been avoiding me all week however," she pouted.

Fergus couldn't help the grin that spread over his face, "Why you saucy minx!" he chuckled. "Anyone I know?" he thought he knew the answer but he wanted to hear her say it.

"Why yes, I believe you know him quite well," she flashed him a dazzling smile. "He's very handsome and sweet. He is kind, but very strong and he has a mischievous sense of humor."

Fergus folded his arms and tilted his head to the side and then rubbed his goatee with his hand, making a show of thinking it over. "Not Ser Gilmore's little brother Aaron? He's a bit young for you..." he trailed off and then eyed her with mock suspicion. "My Lady, have you been using your feminine wiles on my Knights?" he teased and flinched a bit when Leliana punched him in the chest.

"I mean you!" she huffed.

Fergus felt a weight lift off his shoulders, she had managed to take the black sack cloth from his soul and bring light into his world yet again. "Me? Well then in that case...I believe you left off with mischievous sense of humor, no? Carry on," he made an imperious gesture and tried to contain his laughter when Leliana glared at him.

"You knew!" she jabbed a finger into his chest where she'd punched him only moments before. "You let me say all those things, and all this time you _knew_. You are not a gentleman, chivalry is _so_ dead!" she smirked at him. "Well, Lord Cousland. You could at least do me the same courtesy!"

He was filled with so many different emotions that he couldn't put voice to any of them. So rather than speak at all he took a step forward took her heart shaped face in his large hands and kissed her. Soon she deepened the kiss and he found himself with an armful of Orlesian Bard. And Maker, did it ever feel glorious.

When he pulled away he found her eyes glazed over with passion and her lips swollen. There was a pleasant rose color to her cheeks as well. He mentally congratulated himself on a job well done. "Well?" he grinned. "Does that answer your question, my Lady?"

Leliana's tongue darted out to swipe over her lower lip as if trying to taste him on her skin. And his reaction was not lost on her, she smiled. "Mmm, perhaps we could try that again? I think it would help me to understand how you feel a little better."

Fergus happily complied.

* * *

It had been a few days since Zevran left the capital in search of his wayward Grey Warden. Almost immediately he had found a caravan heading to the city of Amaranthine, by way of the Pilgrim's path. As payment for traveling with the wagons, he provided the merchant's with protection. Initially, it seemed an easy task, that is until he realized that the Pilgrims path was plagued with several bandits and one very beautiful and quite insane Dalish beauty. She would set the trees on fire and then enchant them, setting them on his benefactors with a fury he had not seen since Selene stormed the Arl of Denerim's estate. Why was he always attracted to such angry women? One of life's greater mysteries, to be sure.

At the moment he was sitting at a campfire, huddled in his traveling cloak and sharing supper with a man he had come to know only as, "Nathaniel," he spoke the name aloud and the young man looked up from his dinner.

"What is it?" the young man narrowed his large blue eyes on the Antivan suspiciously. Zevran chuckled to himself.

"Now, now..." he soothed. "No need to put such a disgruntled look upon such a handsome face. I was merely going to ask you what you were planning to do once you reach Vigil's Keep. Are you going to try out for the Grey Wardens?"

The young man flinched and Zevran could make out a slightly disgusted facial expression. Though whether from his flirting or the thought of being a Warden, he did not know.

"I thought to join the Arlessa's service, for a time. Why? What is it to you anyway?" Nathaniel asked suspiciously.

"I only ask as it seems that we are traveling the same way, yes? I thought we could stick together for a while," Zevran flashed the man his best smile and mentally sighed with relief when the young man relaxed.

"I don't see why not, just know that whatever else you intend in regards to my person is not going to happen. I don't swing that way...often," he growled.

"Oh? Well, often implies that there is a sometimes and sometimes is still a chance. I will wear you down yet, my friend!" Zevran threw his head back and laughed.

Nathaniel got up and stretched then gave Zevran a pointed look. "I'm going to get some sleep. Stay out here."

Zevran lifted an eyebrow in response. "Ah, you worry I will steal into your tent and have my way with you? Why you would not want such pleasures is beyond me, it must be a Fereldan thing, I swear. But...if you insist, I shall stay out here and you will be safe from the...big...bad..." he let the words drip from his lips like honey, "...elf."

"See that you do," with that he disappeared into his tent.

Zevran allowed himself a chuckle before taking another mouthful of the filling stew, it was almost tasteless, but still better than Alistair's many failed attempts at giving him food poisoning with that gray slop he always tried to pass off as lamb and pea stew. His thoughts roamed over the situation that he found himself in and he frowned. There was something deeper afoot here than mere rivalry amongst the nobility. Such things he could handle. He would simply kill Eamon while making it look like an accident. Accidents were not all that uncommon, especially in a country as brutal and unsubtle as this Ferelden. Were he in Antiva, he would have to rely upon his famous luck to produce an accident worthy of the great Zevran. For instance, having that mark break her neck falling from the carriage that he had just finished ravaging her in. Such things he could not plan. But here in Ferelden he could arrange an ambush somewhere out in the wilderness as he traveled from Denerim to Redcliffe perhaps.

No one would be the wiser.

But...then there was Nathaniel. Oh, the young man was handsome to be sure. However, he was an assassin. Zevran had been a Crow long enough to recognize a killer when he saw one. The way Nathaniel moved, how he could go beyond the use of stealth and actually use the very shadows, a skill that even Zevran had worked hard to perfect over the last months. He also knew poisons, not quite as well as Zevran but...he had an impressive array of them in his pack and on his person at all times. Then of course there was a matter of Nathaniel's last name. He refused to give one. At first this did not bother the Antivan elf as much as it might a normal person. People traveling by way of caravan are often escaping less than pleasant lives. And one thing he had learned from traveling with Grey Wardens is that one cannot overlook potential allies or friends simply because they have colorful lives.

But, (and there is always a but) as they neared Amaranthine Nathaniel had become more distant with him, less likely to engage in the harmless banter that Zevran had grown accustomed to with the young man. The Antivan was coming to believe that Nathaniel was going to attempt to assassinate his lovely Grey Warden. And handsome as the young brute may be, Selene had more than won Zevran's loyalty. Zev would be forced to stop him, violently if Nathaniel was determined enough. "Such a waste," he sighed.

* * *

The next morning Zevran awoke to a calloused hand over his mouth and the worried looking face of his companion hovering over his own. He lifted and eyebrow in question and Nathaniel rolled his skyward. Then he put a finger to his full lips and took his hand away from the elf's face. Getting up he helped Zevran to his feet and indicated that the Antivan should follow him.

After a time of what appeared to Zevran to be aimless wandering about in the Wending Wood, Nathaniel stopped before some brush and knelt, pulling the Antivan down next to him. He parted the shrubbery and pointed to what lay beyond. Zevran peered through the hole and grinned. There, bathing in the waterfall beyond the bushes that he and Nathaniel crouched behind, was the Dalish beauty that had been plaguing them since they set upon the Pilgrim's Path.

Zevran nodded and made a circling gesture with his index finger. Nathaniel nodded in turn and they both went in opposite directions. They were going to trap her between them so that it was more difficult for her to escape, which given her state of attire...would be quite an interesting sight indeed.

At Zevran's signal the two leapt from the bushes with the intent of attacking the seemingly unawares Dalish woman. Of course, then the saucy minx turned the tables on them at the last minute and encased them both in bramble bushes.

Zevran found himself hanging by his limbs in the prickly branches, and he clucked his tongue. "How undignified," he commented. He turned his attention to Nathaniel, who was struggling against his prison and not succeeding.

The woman merely snorted in derision at the hapless human feebly trying to escape her clutches and then unhurriedly slipped into her clothing. Which, much to Zevran's delight, was not much in the way of modesty. Not that he hadn't seen all that she had to offer. She was quite the sight, her smooth tanned skin spoke of many days running wild and naked in the wilderness, perhaps her golden hair unpinned and trailing behind her like a golden veil. He made a purring noise and watched the scowling beauty lift an eyebrow in response.

"Not the usual way I like to be restrained during strenuous activities my dear...but it certainly has potential," he chuckled. "I wonder if maybe perhaps you would undress again, that would make it much more exciting."

"An elf? You have tattoos but you are not of the Dalish, and you travel with a Shemlen," she cast a glance at Nathaniel who was currently red faced and cursing. "And a particularly idiotic one at that. What do you want of me?"

"Me? I want only to lavish your body with the attention it so rightly deserves," he smiled his best wicked smile.

"I don't bond with males who whore themselves out to humans," she spat. "Which is exactly what you're doing, selling your services to the Shemlen merchants, ones I have sworn my enemies. You will pay for your association with them," she hissed.

Zevran bit his lower lip and looked her over, she was rather fetching when she was hissing like a wet cat. "Selling my services?" he laughed softly. "Such things you say...perhaps you would rather I gave my services to you instead?"

"Didn't I just say no?!" the woman shrieked in frustration.

"Well there are many ways to say 'no', some of which undeniably mean 'yes'," he purred and noted with some satisfaction that the woman's cheeks pinked.

"You're insane," she lifted her hand and with a flick of her wrist Zevran was released. "Get out of here, I will not be responsible for slaughtering the village idiot. Tempting though the prospect might be."

Zevran felt the allure of this woman wane a bit. Village idiot? Hopeless romantic? Yes. Fantastic lover and supreme assassin? Also yes. Village idiot? No, no, he thought not. Instead of sauntering off and leaving Nathaniel to the woman's mercies, which he decided she lacked to any degree, he grabbed her roughly around the waist and pulled her to him so that she was facing away from Nathaniel. Then he captured her lips just as she was about to start spewing forth obscenities at him for touching her. He used the kiss to his advantage, distracting her from the fact that he had swiftly slipped Nathaniel a dagger to cut himself free with.

By the time he released her from his grasp she was dazed and her eyelids fluttered open. She looked around only to find Nathaniel gone. She rounded on Zevran again and narrowed her eyes. "You let him get away!"

"Me?" he chuckled. "I merely wanted a good bye kiss from a fiery Dalish beauty. After all, I am as you say...a village idiot. I had no idea that my fellow traveler was so wily."

The woman waved her hand dismissively, "No matter, I will find them all later and kill them, just like the others."

"You know...I understand that the humans have done terrible things to the Dalish in general, but this seems a little personal for you. What are you so angry about?" he asked curiously.

"If you must know I believe that the humans have my sister, I will stop at nothing to get her back," she clenched her fists and growled.

"I have been with that Caravan for many days and I can honestly say that they have no other elves with them," when she looked at him incredulously he only laughed. "I am a lover of beautiful women and men alike. Any woman related to you is bound to be almost as lovely as you are...I believe I would have noticed such a girl if they had one."

"It matters not, I will continue to kill them until I find her," she said. But somehow the knowledge that her sister was not with the caravan took a little of the wind out of her sails.

"Perhaps, we could look for her together? If you found her you would not feel the need to slaughter everything in sight?" he asked in a playful tone.

"Humans took her, I don't know where she would be," her shoulders slumped and she suddenly buried her face in her hands and turned away from Zevran.

Oh no, crying women were definitely not his specialty. He sighed inwardly and wrapped an arm around her. "Where did you last see your sister?"

"You truly want to help me? Even after I killed your friends?" she asked incredulously.

"I was once an Antivan Crow...my last mark spared my life, even though I was trying to kill her. Much as you have done just now. Perhaps, I shall repay my debt to her by helping you," he said thoughtfully.

"But if you wish to repay me by letting me worship you like the deadly sex goddess you are...I will not complain."

Rather than comment she took a deep breath and wiped away her tears. "Follow me," she said and grabbed a branch that Zevran later learned was her mages staff and started walking up a hill.

Zevran shot the bushes a knowing look. Nathaniel's face appeared among the branches and Zevran made a gesture for the dark haired man to follow after them at a distance. He had missed working with other rogues. After making sure he was understood, Zevran quickly caught up to Dalish elf.

"It occurs to me that I have not yet introduced myself. My name is Zevran...Zev to my friends. And you are?" he looked at her expectantly.

"Velanna," she replied but refused to look at him.

"A beautiful name, for a beautiful woman," he purred and then chuckled again when she huffed agitatedly.

* * *

**A/N: It disturbs me that I started writing Zevran and just couldn't stop. It occurred to me (after the fact) that I wrote a chapter entirely with Rogues. I hope that it pleases you, and I promise there will be more Selene and Ser Perth in the next chapter. Review!!**


	11. Chapter 11

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 11:**

Anger, the likes of which Selene had never felt before...boiled away in her veins. Searing her soul until it was blackened around its edges. _'Duncan, Riordan, Mother, Father, Oriana, Oren...I beat back the blight only to have the dark spawn become stronger...Maker...I hate you.' _She thought bitterly at the absent Deity. She had been silent for most of the trip back to Orzammar. She stomped her way through the Dead Trenches, tore her way through Ortan Thaig, and finally she came to a halt before the entrance to the Dwarven capital. The anger still fresh and seemed to hover around the edges of her subconscious like a rage demon. She turned to find Andre and Sigrun still in tow and looking worried. They hadn't been able to catch her attention the entire way there, and the journey had been long.

She would have seen fit to have mercy on them if this was about them. Unfortunately her anger had no permanent face and no actual outlet. She was enraged at the situation itself. Three more broodmothers breeding together, breedingthose newer dark spawn. The new intelligence of the monsters spoke to the way she was captured. There would be no need of an Old God. They would simply become smarter and they would swarm the lands again. Ferelden would have no peace. Especially with Eamon attempting to undermine the Grey Wardens once again. Wardens would be sorely needed and that fool was trying to destroy them all with his selfishness! She sneered. Loghain Mac Tir was a tyrant but he was at least correct about Eamon. Andraste's bleeding arse she should have just risked Alistair's rage and let the man live on as a Grey Warden. At the very least she would have appreciated the man's strategic and political savvy, Loghain could have even slept with Morrigan.

Not only that but she would have loved to march into the Landsmeet to confront Eamon, Loghain at her side and an embittered Alistair snarling at her from the throne. That would have been truly epic and immensely satisfying.

The Commander drew in a breath and let it out slowly. She had recruits' lives to ruin with dark spawn blood, no use in scaring them with the scowl she had on her face. "Sigrun," she motioned for the woman to step up to her left side. When the dwarven woman came to stand at her side Selene looked down into her eyes. "Are you certain that this is what you want?"

"Yes," Sigrun said immediately.

"The joining could kill you, and if you try and back out at the last moment...I will have to," she would have winced at the cold ruthlessness in her voice, if she wasn't too angry to care.

"Legion of the Dead," Sigrun reminded with a slight smirk.

Selene nodded and then took Andre's hand as he came up to her right side. She looked up into his eyes and finally felt herself soften when faced with his concerned gaze. The gentle pressure of his fingers entwined with her own increased marginally in a reassuring squeeze. She sighed. "Come, lets go make more Wardens...before I lose my nerve."

The joining was very successful, only one died from the dark spawn blood. They completed the ritual in the throne room of the Royal Palace in Orzammar. King Harrowmont had been more than accommodating to them for taking outthe broodmothers and would have petitioned the assembly to award her paragon status if Selene asked. More importantly, Sigrun had survived. Selene had grown quite fond of the young woman. As had Andre.

They were currently camped at the foot of the Frostback mountains, on their way back to Soldier's Peak. Selene had just woken from a nightmare. The dream itself had been like a vision. Previously when she and Alistair had dreamed of the Archdemon it was as if the creature had sought them out in the Fade and had tried to destroy them there. This was much more like having a vision. Selene was no seer but she could not deny what she had seen.

_"Kal'Hirol is lost, the Lost, is lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost! Lost!" the figure of a large broodmother like woman wails in torment._

_"Mother...be calm," a dark spawn holds his hands out in a placating gesture, trying to soothe the abomination._

_The pale woman's face raises an inky eyebrow at the creature below her, she towers over it with her bloated caterpillar-like body. Her bare breasts grotesque and located all the way down the fat body. From her back insect like legs twitch with her rage. "Calm?" she says in a low voice. "Yes...once I was calm. Once Mother listened to the beautiful call, felt it wash over her and inside her...and she was calm. But now there is no calm. Father took that away...and now he takes away Kal'Hirol!" she bends forward, her head and arms downward and her voice sinking in despair. "My poor pets in Kal'Hirol!" she wails. She straightens, once more angry, "The Father knew I would send them against him. The Father feared!" she throws her head back and cackled._

_When she stops laughing she smiles knowingly at the dark spawn before her, "Kal'Hirol is gone...but the mother still has her tricks...many, many tricks."_

_If it were possible for a dark spawn to pale, then one would have thought this one had. It looks up at her fearfully, "But what will the Mother do?"_

_"Do?! I will laugh!" she cackles wildly again. She finishes after a time and then smirks down at her minion. "And then...wait."_

Selene awoke shivering uncontrollably. What had she just seen? A different kind of Brood Mother. In fact she had referred to her self as 'The Mother'. _The Mother! '_The Lost' had mentioned 'The Mother' back in Kal'Hirol, and then she dreamed of the creature. It..._she_ was angry. Selene had killed her pets and now she was out for revenge. But who was this 'Father' she was screaming about?

'The beautiful music' was easy to figure out. The Archdemon called to the Horde, made it his own, bent it to his will. It was always assumed before now that the dark spawn had no will or intelligence of their own. Only the need to breed and consume. And now...perhaps they had been wrong all this time. Perhaps there were always intelligent dark spawn? What if during years where there was no blight they simply stayed in the deep roads to replenish their numbers so that when the Archdemon called again, they would be ready? Was it not the Old Gods that were the victims? Or was it the other way around? Or was the relationship symbiotic? Perhaps the Old Gods simply used the dark spawn to awaken them so that they may express their displeasure with the world directly?

These thoughts were bringing on a terrible headache and Selene passed a hand over her face trying to ease the tension out of her facial muscles. She turned her thoughts instead to the immediate future. She needed to get to Soldier's Peak and regroup.

She also wanted to get a message about the dark spawn to Alistair. No matter what her feelings about the man or whom he was keeping close company with, he deserved to know. This was likely to cause more problems with Ferelden's security, and she had no choice now but to recruit aggressively. The aggressive nature of the breeding in Kal'Hirol spoke volumes about the dark spawn's intentions. They were breeding an army. She needed to build one. A scant two hundred Wardens, that is all that she had. Give or take a few. Nothing compared to the hundreds of thousands that had retreated to the deep roads for a brief period after the Archdemon had been slain. And whether or not her dream had been truth or simply her imagination working over time. She could not write off the possibility of their being a 'Mother' out there.

She looked up at the inside of the canvas tent she shared with Andre and shivered. Why did this never seem to end? For some reason, she foolishly believed that while she would never be rid of fighting darkspawn, there may at least be a lull in their activity. She might be able relax marginally and get down to the business of actually living out the thirty odd years she might have left to her life. Though now it seemed that nothing in her world would ever be that easy. And no matter how much she might like to, she couldn't just walk away and leave this mess to someone else. She had made commitments and she meant to honor them. She turned to look at Ser Perth. Andre...her lover. He had come to rescue her from Kal'Hirol. She admitted to being a little upset with him, but...at the same time she loved how wonderful it made her feel. Loved, cherished..needed. He was willing to throw his life away out of love for her. A lump in her throat had her choking down sudden tears as she turned on her side to burrow her face in his chest. His arms automatically closed around her smaller frame and pulled her closer. They had not made love that night, but had stripped off their gear and crawled into the bedroll naked and too tired to do much about it. But now unable to continue sleeping after the nightmare she had woken from...the warmth of his body seeped through her skin and sent a tingling sensation down her spine. She expertly shifted, rubbing against him strategically and was rewarded with a gasp and then that growl that she had come to love.

"Selene," he said warningly.

"Yes," she pleaded.

That was all the motivation he needed as he rolled her over and pinned her beneath his heavier frame. Locks of his hair fell around her and tickled her cheek as he captured her lips with his. He insinuated himself between her legs and reached downwards. He growled again when he found she was more than ready for him. He thrust forwards and proceeded to make love to her with a passion she had not realized the man was capable of. When they had reached their completion simultaneously, he pulled her upwards as he settled back on his knees, Selene straddled his lap and she was crushed to him. He kissed her over and over again and she was startled to find her cheeks wet with his tears.

She reached upwards and held his face in her hands, "Andre?" she asked softly.

"Never leave me again, my love," he choked out and held her to him again, his face against her breasts as she held him.

"I won't," she said. "I swear."

This seemed to mollify him and he calmed enough to lay her back down on their bedroll, he settled her against him and then pulled the blankets up over them both. They both fell asleep...Selene much later than her lover.

* * *

Miles away in Denerim Alistair awoke in his over-sized bed drenched in cold sweat. He glanced about wildly looking for the talking dark spawn he had just dreamed of. The brood mother...that..._thing_. Alistair shuddered. Somehow, he knew that Selene had a hand in whatever had happened at Kal'Hirol. Not only had he seen the dark spawn, he had _felt_ Selene was there through the fade. He didn't believe she felt him back, but after having spent over a year with her constantly on his mind he was a bit more attuned to her than she was to him. In a lot of ways, because of that vile concoction of Avernus's, her taint was different. Both stronger and weaker than Alistair's own taint. It had given her more power than him but had lengthened her lifespan rather than shortening it.

He would have brought it up to her, if he had trusted Avernus. She would have wanted Avernus to make the same potion for the other Wardens. And while as noble an intention that might be, the elderly Apostate used human test subjects...he killed a lot of people in the name of research. Alistair would never condone Avernus continuing down that path. Wardens did whatever necessary to stop the blight...but was blood magic of that magnitude necessary? Would the Wardens be any better than Keeper Zathrian in that respect, ruining the lives of others to prolong their own? He would like to think that the Grey Wardens were better than that. Despite their willingness to do what ever necessary to fight dark spawn, he and Selene had also always striven to do what was right.

He bent his knees and leaned his elbows upon them, his head falling forward into his palms. "Maker have mercy...the dark spawn can talk now!" he got out of bed hurriedly and then pulled on a dark red robe.

Padding over to his chamber door he pulled it open to find a pair of guards looking at him curiously. "Uh...hi," he said awkwardly. "I...uh...know its late. But I wondered if you could wake up Bertram for me?"

The guards exchanged a look and one of them bowed and took off towards the east wing, where the guards were quartered. Alistair nodded his thanks and slipped back into his room.

Feeling silly for hanging about in his robe, Alistair slipped on a pair of trousers and a shirt. He left his feet bare, as he'd always done when he didn't need to be anywhere in particular. He had barely sat down to wiggle his toes in front of the fire when a knocking at the door had him getting to his feet.

"Enter!" he tried to call out confidently.

The door opened and through it came his bushy bearded guard, the man's eyes half drooping and his sword scabbard in his hand. He looked around the room as if trying to ascertain whether or not Zevran may be waiting in the shadows to ambush him. When he seemed satisfied that all was well with the King's room, he finally brought his gaze round to Alistair. "Your majesty, you realize all the other guards are going to talk? Right?" he said with an eyebrow waggle.

Alistair opened his mouth...closed it...opened it again and then finally let out a snicker. "I just knew introducing you to Zev was a bad idea."

"If nothing else, consider it pay back for all the times I've almost been caught sneaking you your midnight cheese, Sire," Bertram smiled. "I'm guessing that's not what you want, though."

Alistair shook his head. "No, I need you to make some arrangements. We're leaving for Amaranthine first thing in the morning."

"Are you sure that's wise, Sire? Its no secret how Lord Eamon views the Grey Wardens at the moment. He might try and persuade the nobles that they are holding you against your will," Bertram's eyes widened with concern.

"I know just what Eamon will think. Which is why I would like you to go to his rooms and wake him up, bring him here and then attend to the travel arrangements....please," he added as an afterthought.

Bertram shook his head and then sighed heavily, "Yes, Sire."

Alistair gave a nod and a dismissive gesture and then sat at his desk, hastily penning the letters he would send to the more influential nobles of his intentions. In no time a fully dressed and upset Eamon was shown in. "Ah, Eamon. I am going to be leaving for Amaranthine in the morning-," he began.

"Alistair, I urge you. Think about what you are _doing_! You're walking right into that woman's clutches," Eamon growled.

"That's enough!" Alistair bellowed. "Not one more word Eamon!" Alistair clenched a fist as if struggling not to hit the aging man. Instead he turned his back on him and took several deep breaths before finally turning to face him again. "Now, I am going to go and check on the Warden-Commander and get an assessment on how she is coping as the new Arlessa. While I am gone I want you to start interviewing for your replacement."

"You can't be serious!" Eamon near-shouted.

"Oh, but I am. It occurs to me now Eamon that I offered you the chancellorship without actually considering the impact on your family. You should spend as much time with Connor as you can before he is taken to the circle tower. The chantry granted you a year, you should make the most of it. And Isolde deserves to have her husband with her more often. The Arling of Denerim is still mine to grant. Seriously think about taking that position instead," Alistair sat down at his desk. "Now, if you would be so kind, I am tired and I have a few more things to do before my trip."

"I-," Eamon started angrily but was silenced by a warning look from Alistair. "Yes, your Majesty."

* * *

Ser Perth looked out upon the majesty of Soldier's Peak and marveled at its cold beauty. He took a breath of cool, clean air and a grin split his handsome face from ear to ear. None of the usual Ferelden smells drifted up from the courtyard below. The only thing reaching him was the smell of stew wafting its way throughout the Keep. The kitchens stayed open all day to accommodate the guard shifts. The Keep was well run, that was for certain. Selene had chosen well when she had picked Rilyn for the position of Watcher.

They had arrived earlier that day and immediately he was told, or rather ordered by his beloved to go to their rooms and bathe. She had promised to join him, but that was hours ago and the bathwater had long since chilled. Rather than have it reheated he'd gotten out and put on a clean pair of trousers and a shirt, then proceeded to sit in a chair by the fire. Picking up a book to read he had fallen asleep not long afterward. Soon he was awoken by a servant who told him that Selene had been seeing to important matters and she would find him when it was time for dinner. Andre had thanked the boy and that led him up to that moment. The moment where he could no longer be satisfied with waiting. Surely there was more to Grey Wardening than simply following Selene around. He stuffed his sock clad feet into his boots and proceeded to wander around the Keep.

It had changed in the short time that he and Selene had been away. There were tapestries now and Drapes covering the tall windows. There was more furniture and more people. They saluted or bowed to him as he went by and he returned the gestures with the same and a friendly smile. Some of them called him "Mi'lord" and he wondered if this was in deference to his relationship with Selene. After all, title or no...she was still a Cousland...that and when Amaranthine was given to the Wardens she was the acting Arlessa. He wasn't all that sure he wanted to be elevated just by association but he shrugged. He supposed he'd been called worse things in his lifetime.

Curiously he ended up taking a few wrong turns and found himself heading in the direction of Avernus's tower. He frowned. He never actually thanked Avernus...had he? _'Well_,'he thought, '_I believe its only right that I remedy that.'_

He opened the door and battled the wind and snow over the footbridge and finally pushed his way in through the tower door. Once inside he found two young mages sitting in chairs at the desk in the frontroom. "Hello," he smiled.

One of them turned to him and lifted an eyebrow in response. He reminded Andre disturbingly of Jowan.

"Is...uh... Avernus in by any chance?" he asked.

The Mage waved him on towards the doorway heading into Avernus's laboratory and Andre nodded thankfully. He opened the door and at first saw no sign of the aged Mage. He shut the door behind him and was immediately flung into it by an explosion. Thankfully, he was far enough away from the source that he was not scorched. The force of the impact only knocked the air from his lungs. He sat down heavily and wheezed, trying to take in air. His chest burned and he started to see stars. Finally after some moments he was able to breath again.

He stood and swayed on his feet a moment as he looked around. It was not long before he found the source of the explosion, which apparently had been Avernus himself. He was surrounded by a magic shield of some kind and had been doing something with what was no doubt highly volatile material. Otherwise he would not have needed to take such precautions. The laboratory itself was in a shambles.

Amidst the piece of flaming debris and shattered glass stood Avernus. His arms folded and the blue shimmering sphere of his shield finally winking out of existence. "Blast it all!" he shouted and threw his hands up in the air. "When I get my hands on that insufferable ingrate of an Apostate I'll see him covered in boils! No...no, boils are too good for him," he put rested one aging hand on his lower back and the other under his chin as he thought aloud. "Leprosy!" he cackled. "Yes, that ought to do quite nicely!" he chuckled darkly to himself.

Andre's eyebrows knitted together. "Master Mage? Are you alright?" he called out.

Avernus looked up and blinked. "The Tainted Knight!" Avernus's face actually lifted into a semblance of a smile as he said this. And Andre couldn't help the shudder that ran through him. "Aha! It's always good to see one of my more successful test subjects roaming around with all his parts in working order," he chuckled and then sniffed. "So, to what do I owe this dubious pleasure?"

"I actually had some free time and I realized that I never thanked you for saving my life," Andre said nervously. He could feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck.

Avernus made a dismissive gesture, "Bah! It is I who should be thanking you, young Andre. Had Selene not brought you to me, I would never have seen the effects my improved joining had on the uninitiated. She had taken it as well and survived, but she was already a Warden at the time. So survival was...easier," he beamed with pride. "My life's work courses in your veins!"

Andre gave the elderly man a weak smile. "Yes," he paused and crossed the room, picking his way through the remnants of the explosion. "I had some questions, if you have time."

Avernus snorted in derision, "Time! Yes, yes...time is all I have now that that poppin' jay Xephi mislabeled my ingredients and did _this_!" he gestured to the destruction around him. "Go ahead, ask away young Knight. Though I caution you, I do not do subtlety nor do I do _tact_. I've neither the time nor the inclination to coddle you!" Avernus warned.

Andre nodded, "What is different with the joining that I was given verses the joining that the other's have received?"

"Well, I imagine that is a fair question. It is your right to know," Avernus sat down on the unburnt stairs leading up to his instruments and stoked his white stubbled face. "The difference, in theory, is that the normal joining ritual is crude, just as apt to kill you as make you a Warden. Only the strongest survive. Had you not already been weakened, you may have survived that crude ritual without my help. However, through the use of blood-magic and applications of electricity, I was able to make it less deadly...and with my version, a Warden's lifespan is not shortened. You will live as long as you would have otherwise. And there are powers, ones I imagine that you've yet to discover."

Andre opened his mouth and then shut it again, "You...you used blood-magic on me?"

Avernus took in Andre's suddenly pale face and he scowled, "Bah! Chantry idiocy puts an unnecessary stigma on blood-magic that does not need to be. Magic is and forever will be a _tool_. Nothing more. Magic and all its schools is only as evil as the person using it. I've been told my blood-magic corrupted me, but I assure you...I've always been this personable. Now," he stood and pointed towards the door, "if you don't mind I have to clean this mess up. If you see Xephi, send him to me...we have much to discuss," he hissed out.

"I will do that, Ser Mage," Andre gave the Grey Warden bowing salute and left the tower. Though Avernus had answered one question, more seemed to spawn from the answer and Andre found himself now not quite so eager to join Selene at dinner. What on Thedas had she been thinking? _'Blood-magic! Maker preserve us!'_

**A/N: Once again I've taken something from the game and word for worded it. Sorry. The bit with the Mother is of course taken from the game directly. Not the bits I added though. SO...thank you to Melismo for doing a fabulous job editing. Also to Piceron for being supportive and thank you to all of you who take the time to review. You're truly wonderful people. Hint, hint...=)**


	12. Chapter 12

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 12: In Peace; Vigilance.**

Andre spent the rest of that afternoon thinking over his conversation with Avernus. He'd also spoken with many of the other Warden's in the Keep. But the most troubling conversation had to be the one he'd had with Xephi.

"Well, if it isn't you," Xephi growled as Andre dropped himself unceremoniously in a seat beside the mage in the break room.

"Still angry at me for ordering you back to Orzammar?" Andre asked with amusement.

"Whatever gave you that idea? Next time I need help stating the obvious I'll let you know," Xephi sniffed and then took a sip of his tea. "What do you want anyhow?"

"Well, I know you aren't exactly happy with me right now, but...mind if I ask you a few things about the Wardens?" he grabbed his own mug and poured himself some tea from the pot next to the young Mage.

Xephi shrugged, "Sure, why not? Not like I've got anything better to do."

"So, I was up to see Avernus just now," Andre started.

"Oh yeah? I think I'd rather have boils than talk to that miserable old bastard, but to each his own," Xephi chuckled.

Andre raised an eyebrow, being that Avernus had said he was going to give the young man boils less than an hour before. "Yes...well, I asked him about my joining and he told me that he used blood-magic on me. And I was wondering how the Warden's could allow such a thing?"

Xephi's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. He tucked a strand of his long dark hair behind his ear and offered a nervous smile. "Well, we don't necessarily go out and recruit blood mages, but its not something that the Wardensforbid either. I myself am an apostate, not a blood mage mind you, but still...The Chantry doesn't take kindly to such things, if they knew that Avernus was alive I'm sure there would be fifty Templar's up here trying to drag the old fool away."

Andre frowned and refrained from saying, 'I don't take kindly to such things either'. "You don't think its wrong for blood-magic to be performed in the Joining?"

Xephi shrugged again. "I guess that depends on your definition of right and wrong."

"That is not an answer," Andre folded his arms and lifted his eyebrow again.

"Look, sometimes to battle great evil you have to use whatever advantage you can. Its called the greater good. Being a Warden means doing whatever you can to stop dark spawn. If that means that we occasionally have to bend the rules of polite society, that's what we do," Xephi narrowed his eyes on the Knight. "Why are you so focused on blood-magic anyway?"

"Blood-magic killed over half of my village," Andre's voice was low.

"Redcliffe? I was under the impression that the Arl's son was responsible for that," Xephi said with some surprise.

"If it were not for the blood-mage Jowan and his poisoning of Arl Eamon, Connor would have felt no need to try and deal with that which he didn't understand. He was an innocent, a child. That blood-mage started it by causing that little boy pain," Andre growled.

Xephi shook his head. "It was Jowan's misguided actions that led to the horrors at Redcliffe. Not the magic itself."

"Were it not for blood-magic he would not have been expelled from the Circle and then he would not have come to Redcliffe," Andre said with a tone of finality and then stood. "Selene was there, she should know that nothing good ever comes from blood-magic."

Xephi scoffed, "Says the man who was saved by Selene said blood-magic!"

Andre nodded, "I have benefited from the evil...I know. For that I will atone, however unaware I was, I was still complicit in the act. It makes me as guilty as Avernus...or Selene."

"Selene did what she thought was right, she saved a good man from dying by using what tools were available. No one died in your Joining. No one died in the blood-magic used. I don't really see how you can lump this all into one 'big evil' category!" Xephi was getting sick of Andre's self-righteousness.

"Because its an offense against the Maker!" Andre growled again and then pushed himself away from the table in disgust. "I didn't come here to start a fight with you, Mage. Your blood-mage has summoned you to his presence," he hissed and stalked off.

* * *

"I'm living a lie," Andre muttered to himself. "She should have just left me there to die. Or found another way..."

Ser Perth had found himself pacing about 'their' room again, noting that it was now way past supper time and he'd likely missed her completely. He sat down on their bed and set his elbows on his knees and pressed his palms to his face. "Holy Maker and his beloved Andraste, please show me the correct path so that I may know how best to serve you and live with honor," he whispered into the fire lit room.

The events at Redcliffe, memories long since buried came flooding back to him. His worst nightmare had become a reality. Walking corpses, the pale rotting faces of people he'd known his whole life, running at him, clawing at him. He raised his blade again and again, cutting them down, cutting them to pieces. Still they came, night after night until he was even battling the corpses of women and children that were dragged away only the night before. Their colorless death-masks twisted into visages of terror that reflected their final moments in this world. No one deserved that kind of death. And it had all begun with lies and blood-magic.

When Selene had shown up at Redcliffe she seemed like a savior. She charged in and took control of the situation, battling along side him with her companions as they had pushed back the undead. They had saved the village that night. The next day they fought their way through the castle and he admired her as she stood straight and defiant in the face of the demon possessing Connor. Selene had saved the boy, where others may have just slaughtered him. It had felt good, right even...to be at her side that day. But now...now she was condoning that same magic that had turned Connor into a monster. To make matters worse, she used it on Andre without even asking his permission. What stain had he involuntarily taken on his soul? He could see it even then, on Jowan, on Connor. They both looked...not right. Even after Connor was returned to himself there was something about him that didn't sit right with Ser Perth. He had written it off at the time, not having known very many mages, he assumed that they all had that slightly otherworldly look. The Witch of the Wilds had it. Curiously, the elderly woman from the Circle Selene had returned with had not. He had come to know her now as Wynne. It didn't occur to him until now but Wynne did not have that same look. Avernus had it in spades. It was like an aura, an evil mark upon their souls that spoke of hidden torments and horrors to anyone willing to look beyond the masks they wore.

Andre shuddered. No...no. He could not let this happen. He couldn't let that same taint take hold of him, it would consume him, devour all that he was. Drive him mad with hunger for power. Avernus had his research to give him power, Connor had sought it from a desire demon. Jowan had sought it from Loghain and Selene...Selene had the Warden's to give her power. She might not be corrupt now but she soon would be. She turned to blood-magic to help save someone. As noble an intention as it was, it would still open up the floodgates to destruction.

He would tell her that she needed to repent and renounce all uses of blood-magic. Get rid of Avernus. Otherwise he would need to get away from here. She would doom them all and the Ferelden Wardens would once again be near extinction.

* * *

_'Where is he?!' _she growled inwardly to herself again. She had finally made it to their rooms to find him gone, then she had wandered the entire keep looking for him. Her lover was, quite frankly, nowhere to be found. She had even asked every single one of the Drydens where he was. If anyone had seen them, one of them certainly would know about it. Nothing got by all of them, they were simply too numerous. Watcher Rilyn had been correct in his assessment, they were indeed like rabbits.

Realizing that it was getting quite late and her Grey Warden appetite was even now preying upon her body, she nipped down to the kitchens and grabbed herself some of the roast pig they'd had for dinner and some bread and the white cheese. She drowned it with some wine from the Highever cellars. Her brother had sent her some casks both to Amaranthine and to Soldier's Peak.

It wasn't until she was heading up to her room some time later when the stairs seem to sway back and forth, that she realized she had perhaps had one too many goblets full of the wine. It was after all her favorite vintage and year. Fergus had sent her the lot. She sniggered to herself. "Lot, lot, I got aaaaalot," she giggled and then hiccupped.

By some miracle she made it to her chambers and flung the door open, shushing it when it hit the wall behind it with a bang. "Not s'loud!" she glared at it and then shut it in an exaggeratedly careful way. When she turned around she found Andre sitting on her bed looking at her oddly.

"Oh no!" she waggled her finger at him. "You don't get to (hiccup) lookit...(a soft burp)...look..at...me..w-w-wi-...(she shook her head as if to clear it)..you don't get to look at me like that!" she growled. "Where have you _been_?" (Her pronunciation of "been" coming out more like "bean")

"I've been out," he shrugged and then his eyebrows knitted together as she tried to look indignant at his answer and came off instead like she was going to be sick.

"Oh, I think I may be sick," she said and ran to the one window in the room. She flung it open and leaned over the side, her stomach emptying into the snow almost fifty feet below her. When she was done she wiped her mouth and closed the window.

"I think we should talk about this in the morning, Selene."

The tone of his voice made her cringe, even in her inebriated state. It was the same tone that Alistair had used when he...when he...no! No, no, no, "No!" she growled.

"You're in no condition to discuss what I have to say right now," he had risen and had come to stand at her side and was trying to pull her towards the bed.

She wrenched her arm out of his grasp. "I assure you _Ser_ Perth, I am quite in control of myself now. I have a fast metabolism. Now that I've sicked up what was ailing me...you have something to say? Say it," she said angrily. Part of her knew what was coming and the dark part of her that had come to depend on the grief, on the sickness of rage, taint and heartache, reveled in the new fuel that his disappointed eyes promised her.

The look he gave her made her growl again. It was like he was looking at a complete stranger. "I have been up to see Avernus. He told me..." he broke off and looked at a point above her head, his jaw clenched and then he steeled himself to look her in the eyes again. "He told me that you had him use blood-magic on me during the joining."

Her eyebrows knitted together in surprise, "Andre, the blood-magic was performed on the blood you drank, not you. Nor was the ritual blood-magic. The ritual itself is like an oath, its the blood that binds you. The magic used on the blood is blood magic. Its simply a tool, nothing more."

Andre snorted in derision, "Funny, Avernus said that very same thing. If I had known that you were going to employ blood-magic to save my life I would have told you to simply kill me!"

She blinked at him, "The Wardens don't forbid the use of blood-magic, Andre." She couldn't understand what had him so angry at her.

"It is an offense in the sight of the Maker!" he roared. "Look at what happened at Redcliffe! Please, get rid of Avernus and renounce the use of blood-magic. I cannot sit idly by while you send us all to hell!"

"Ha!" she barked out a harsh laugh that was full of anything but humor. Her eyes had gone flinty as she glared at him. "I had partaken in that very same "blood-magic" and yet, I was still found worthy to take a pinch of the Sacred Ashes to cure your 'beloved' Arl Eamon. How quickly you all forget that the ends justify the means when you're no longer in danger of dying," she hissed. "I will honor the memory of the fallen and exterminate the dark spawn by any means necessary. As I have been doing since the beginning."

Andre backed away from her then, a look of complete shock on his face. "You're not the person I thought you were," he looked pale.

Selene was startled to hear a high wild cackling, the sound was thin and high and could have been from a mad woman. It wasn't until it got louder that she realized that it was she that was laughing. Somewhere inside she had broken. Somewhere inside, all of the rejection and hurt and pain had finally caught up to her. All the grief, all the rage, all the pent up frustrations, had come to the fore with his accusation. He couldn't love her, if he refused to understand, "Get out."

He stared at her dumbfounded. Which made her all the angrier. "I swore that I would never leave you, Andre. As your Commander, I will not. But you do not, nor will you ever understand me. And thus I cannot have you by my side as my lover. It occurs to me just now that a creature such as me is not capable of maintaining such a relationship. So, you will get your things, and you will go down to the barracks. They will have a spare bed for you," she turned on her heel and strode into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Selene sat on the side of her tub and kept her tears to a minimum until she heard the door shut behind him. She opened the door and poked her head out, noting somewhat sadly that he had really taken his things and left. She laughed bitterly through a fresh wave of tears. He'd really just walked out on her, on them. She'd thought over his point and realized that before the Warden's, before all the horrors of Highever, Ostagar...the Archdemon. She might have felt the same way. Mother Mollol had been very adamant that she stay away from the evil's of mages and maleficarum. Still, love was meant to triumph over all. Wasn't it? Perhaps...she shook her head and wiped the moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand. Maybe not. Maybe for her, there was to be no such thing. She had the Grey Wardens. She had her duty. It wasn't much, but...it was something real. Something that would never leave her.

She passed her hand over her face once more and dried the last tears that she would ever shed over another. That was an oath she could make for herself. "Never again," she said darkly. With that she fell into her bed and sleep overcame her quickly.

_The Fade held dark spawn, of that much she was certain. She had fought them there when they had cleared the circle tower. Now she fought them in her own dreams. She slashed and parried, whirled and stabbed. Her body a killing tool, her mind focused on making them suffer, as she had suffered._

_Soon she could feel a familiar presence at her side, fighting with her just as he always had. No matter what she had done, no matter where she had gone, or the sins she had committed, he'd been there with her. Through it all. He told her how he felt but left the decisions up to her and trusted her to do the right thing. He understood that she had to do what was necessary, just as Duncan did. They had to end the blight. Thus was the burden of the Grey Warden's._

_Suddenly it was like it was that day, when neither of them thought that they would live to see the morning. The bright orange glow of Denerim ablaze, the heavy hot ash thick in the air, coating everything, burning her lungs. They were on top of Fort Drakon, Alistair holding onto his sword, his shield long since broken in two by an ogre. He looked at her and she at him. She offered him a beatific smile. "Selene?" he asked._

_They had hacked their way through the horde and finally the Archedemon __lay_ _before them, struggling to get to them. It was wounded mortally. Now all that need be done was to issue the killing blow. She looked at Alistair, knowing that this could be the final time her living eyes could gaze at him. "I love you, no matter what happens, know that I will always love you," she said in a loud clear voice._

"_Selene!" he choked out. He reached towards her.... too late, as she turned towards the Archedemon, frowned and sprinted towards it. The clanging of her armor ringing loudly, the hot ash in the air stinging her face, she grabbed a Great Sword from the corpse of a dark spawn and screamed in fury at the tainted Old God. It turned and stared right through her, its milky white eyes seemed to recognize her and it roared, its head rearing up and she grinned. She knew now how to kill it. Just as she reached it she dropped to her knees, her momentum letting her slide on her greaves and she plunged the sword upwards, slicing the creature from neck to belly. Its roaring turned into screaming, a sound that would haunt her for the rest of her life. And then she was standing over it, her blade raised and it plunged into the beasts neck, as if by its own will, she struggled and pulled and pried, slicing until finally the large reptilian skull separated from the body with an explosion of light and sound. It threw her and all was dark...dark...oblivion. Peace. It was over. She was over. Bliss...an end._

She awoke, breathing heavily and her throat sore. She had been screaming. Above her was the worried face of a maid. "Mi'lady, are you alright?" the girl looked frightened.

Selene offered a reassuring smile to the young woman. "Yes, I am fine. Is it close to dawn?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the girl looked relieved. Selene could understand that it was unnerving to have the hero of Ferelden screaming her head off in the middle of the night. She was after all not supposed to be human, but slightly above. Selene sneered to herself and rolled out of bed.

"Please bring me up some fresh hot water, I need to bathe. And after that, please inform Watcher Rilyn that I will be taking my leave of him today. I would like for him to get me together the necessary supplies. Just for me, I'll be traveling alone," she said firmly.

The maid curtsied and then scurried off to do as her mistress commanded. It was not long after her bath was done and she was lacing up her trousers that there was a banging on her door. She frowned, knowing that there was only one person it could be. She slipped a shirt over her head and then opened the door.

Andre stood there with his arms crossed, his face angry and his eyes red rimmed and tired. Apparently he'd not had a good nights sleep either. '_Good', _inwardly spat. "Ser Perth, to what do I owe this pleasure?" she kept her voice, smooth and cold.

"Selene-," he started angrily, and she held up her hand, interrupting him.

"Warden Andre, I would appreciate it if you would address me as Commander. It occurs to me that I have been incredibly lax in your training. A mistake that from here on out that I will endeavor to rectify," she said coldly.

His eyebrows knitted together in surprise and then he looked angry again. "Commander, please. Don't do this. You swore..." his jaw clenched and there was a flash of pain and grief in his eyes. She felt herself wavering and then she remembered how he had acted towards her last night.

"I am not leaving you Andre, I'm just going to go take care of some business, I will be back to collect you in a few weeks time. In the mean time I am leaving instructions with Watcher Rilyn to instruct you in the ways of the Grey Wardens, all that that entails, and how others in your situation integrate their beliefs with their duties. Last night proved to me that I had done you a great disservice by not explaining to you what being a Grey Warden really means. If by the time I come back, you still feel dissatisfied with your position here, then you may be released from our ranks. Just know that having the taint means that you will always be driven to fight dark spawn," she let her words drop like ice chips.

"I am not dissatisfied with my service to the Grey Warden's, I am dissatisfied with the fact that the woman who claims to be in love with me neglected to tell me that she damned me to hell, and now she's running away from having to apologize for doing so!" he growled.

It was her turn to look surprised. But then that surprise took on a note of rage. "No matter how you might feel about blood-magic or about me, Andre Perth. You will never get me to apologize for saving your life. I will never...ever...apologize for that!"

"You don't seem to understand-," he started again and was cut off again.

"Oh, I understand. I understand that sometimes, sacrifices must be made for the greater good. Sacrifices that mar the soul, tear out the living beating heart and replace it with stone. And if it is a sin to save a good man from dying of disease and a maddened mind. To stop him from becoming a vile creature whose only purpose is to kill, consume, and sicken all around it. Then that is my sin to bare. _I_ will make that sacrifice. And _I_ will not feel sorry about it! We are done here, Warden Andre. Report to the Watcher after breakfast, he will give you your assignment," with that she shut the door firmly in his face and finished getting ready.

An hour later Selene had saddled up and was heading out of the keep through the underground tunnels. It had been quite some time since she was truly alone and she was going to use this time to its fullest. She needed to be alone, to be away from those she had become close to. To clear her mind and find herself again. She could not afford to live her life trying to make others happy. The Warden's were not about happiness. The Wardens were about duty, sacrifice, vigilance. All these things came to be pushed to the back of the line when Andre began 'courting' her.

In the back of her mind a dark thought whispered that he didn't love her for her. But he loved her because he was in love with the 'Hero of Ferelden'. She clenched the reins tightly in her hands until they hurt. That would explain much. His love, nothing more than hero worship. She felt her gorge rise and she pulled out her canteen and took a swallow. '_Never again'_. Blast Alistair with bestowing that damned title on her! She could see Sten's point now, being named a hero while still alive was the pits. Though she was anything but arrogant about it. She actually felt disgusted with the entire notion.

She knew now that she should never have walked away from the Archedemon that day. "In war; Victory. In Peace; Vigilance. And in death; Sacrifice." It was the Grey Warden Code. All she had done that night was sacrifice her last night alone with Alistair. She had given it to Morrigan and she in turn had given Alistair what she could not. A child. For that...for that she would suffer all her days. She snorted to herself. _'Hero indeed!_' Heroes died young, as it should be. They should not live on to become tarnished in the eyes of others, like Loghaine Mac Tir. How much better he would have been remembered in the eyes of others instead of the traitor that he turned out to be? Would someday someone think the same of her because of the choices she made that she felt necessary at the time? She honestly hoped that she would never live to see that day. She was no hero. She just wanted to be herself and to have people see her for exactly that and accept it. She was a Grey Warden. Dark as well as light, tainted. For her there was no good, no evil. Just her, a tool against the dark spawn.

Soon she cleared the underground passages and started the long journey down the mountain. Ahead of her the world opened up before her eyes. A world that she had helped save, one that she helped shape with the blades on her back and the duty she had sworn. As her Father would have willed it, as Duncan had tasked her. The sky was pink on the horizon with the sunrise, signaling the coming of rain later that afternoon. The chill of the air warmed as she neared the base of the peak. From there she would head east to Amaranthine.

* * *

The more time that Zevran had spent with the lovely Velanna the less lovely she actually seemed. The disdain on her finely sculpted face made her seem twisted rather than beautiful and after awhile he actually started to get quite annoyed at the way she whined about the plight of the Dalish. She would ask him questions on how he felt about humans only to cut his opinion down with disgust and anger. After awhile he started entertaining killing her rather than suffer through her arrogance for the rest of the day. Which was becoming increasingly likely as they were having troubles picking up the trail of her sister, Serrani.

"Now my dear, take me to where you found evidence that human's were behind your sister abduction," he kept his voice smooth and indulgent.

"At the top of this hill," she gestured before her and Zevran took the lead, drawing his Silverite Dar'Misaan and Dar'Misu, gifted to him by the Warden before the final battle. He still carried them, a reminder (along with the Dalish gloves) of whom his mother was.

Once at the top he was greeted not by what he assumed was going be a scene of terrible slaughter but of what looked like a poorly staged fake battle. At the entrance of the Dalish encampment a Ferelden sword was plunged into the dirt. This was his first indicator that something was foul. Any Ferelden soldier worth his mud and smelly dogs would never treat his blade so. The rocks and dirt would dull the edge. What good was a warrior or rogue with a dull sword? And then there were piles of such weapons littered about the bloodied Aravel. Why would human's leave their weapons behind. It made no sense.

His eyes flicked over the cairns, obviously carefully constructed by the woman at his side. He turned to her to find her eyes wet once again and he shook his head. Did she not see? Was she so blind. "This is an obvious trap, one obviously meant for you," he drawled out.

She turned to him with a shocked and angry expression. "Trap? Human's are too stupid to lay an adequate trap. As you can see, their trap has not worked, I am still alive."

Zevran put his weapons away and then pinch the bridge of his nose, "No,no. You misunderstand me, this trap was not set by humans and you've obviously fell for it."

She turned to glare at him. "I know a human crime when I see it!"

"I have no great love of human's Velanna, but you must see that they would not be so blatantly obvious by dumping their weapons in piles by your aravel. What would be the point, exactly?" he asked her trying to get her to work it out for herself.

Her face screwed up in contemplation and she nibbled on her lower lip. "Alright, I see your point. Still...who else would have done this?"

"This I do not know, but we shall find out. Come, let us go back and take that path to the right I saw," he turned and left the area without waiting for her to follow. He had chosen that path because he had seen Nathaniel disappear down it before Velanna could spot him. He smiled to himself when Velanna wasn't looking. He was becoming quite fond of his human partner in crime.

* * *

Watcher Argus made his rounds through Vigil's Keep. Which usually meant he walked around a bit, made sure all his brother and sister Wardens weren't in need of anything. Then he would spend an hour or more in the kitchen with his favorite scullery maid. He grinned to himself as he made his way down the stairs towards the kitchens.

As he set his hand upon the door handle and was about to go in he heard a scream. He whirled around and realized that the scream came from outside. Without thought he drew his daggers and ran throught the twisting halls and winding corridors, going the quickest route to the courtyard. And then an explosion rocked the keep, he staggered and slipped coming down hard on his bad knee. He grunted in pain and used a nearby stair railing to hoist himself up. Ahead of him there was the sound of the door giving way and to his great surprise dark spawn spilled into the corridor.

"Maker!" he whispered before he was silenced by an arrow through the eye, buried to the fletch in his skull. His was the most merciful of deaths that night. Others were not so lucky.

* * *

**A/N: As always thank you to Melismo for giving me ideas and for her lovely edits. Reviews?**


	13. Chapter 13

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction  
**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 13: **

* * *

"I-," Velanna's face was twisted in horror, "I didn't realize how horrible the dark spawn sickness could be."

Zevran wiped the tainted blood from his dagger and closed the eyes of the human soldier named 'Olaf' that he and the Dalish mage had stumbled upon. He clucked his tongue and shook his head, "I have never gotten used to it myself. Though having traveled with the Grey Warden's I am probably much more accustomed to it than most."

"So, if the dark spawn have my sister then, you would be able to help me get her back?" she asked hopefully.

Zevran shook his head. "Unfortunately, it will not be that easy. You see, although I have traveled with Grey Wardens and fought by their side, I am sadly nowhere near their equal against dark spawn on my own. We would need at least one Grey Warden with us if we were to head underground to retrieve this sister of yours."

"Then what do you propose we do?" her shrill voice rising in desperation.

"Come with me to Amaranthine, I happen to know the Warden-Commander personally," Zevran purred.

Velanna raise a delicate blond eyebrow, "Personally?"

Zevran laughed, "Perhaps not that personally. Though more for lack of opportunity than for lack of trying, I think."

"I cannot travel with your caravan," Velanna said stubbornly.

"I understand. Though I hope that you will not mind traveling with my friend. You know, the one that you let get away earlier," Zevran flashed her a mischievous grin.

"You mean the one _you_ let get away?" she shot back.

"Yes, that one," he chuckled.

Velanna's face reddened as she replayed Zevran kissing her to distraction earlier that day. "Very well," she said curtly.

"Good," Zevran turned to the bushes beside them. "Do you hear that my dear Nathaniel? The lovely Velanna has decided that she will not suffer too much in your company. How marvelous for you, no?"

Velanna scoffed as Nathaniel revealed himself, the same grin reflected on his face that Zevran had only moments before. "I am honored, my lady," he offered a mocking bow.

"Don't call me that!" she screeched, causing both men to laugh.

* * *

Alistair glared at Bertram's back. Bertram, of course, being totally unaware of his liege trying to bore two holes in his back with the power of his mighty royal stare carried on packing up the King's tent.

"For the love of Andraste, Bertram!" Alistair threw his white steel gauntleted hands up in the air in frustration.

"I know! What would all of Ferelden think if they knew that the King had tried to pack up his own tent when he has people that can do that for him!" Betram declared with mock empathy.

"They would think I was a King of the people, that's what! Just so you know I never wanted this job, I wanted to be a fearsome slayer of dark spawn, maybe rediscover Griffins, marry the woman of my dreams, maybe pop out a kid or three...well have my wife pop out them out...not me...that's just not possible...anyway, the point _is_ that now I have to put up with _you_! If I'd known you came with the job I would have told Eamon to go kiss a mabari!" Alistair's hands waived about frantically until his brain caught up to the implications of Bertram's earlier statement. "Wait a tic, are you suggesting that just over a year of living as royalty has rendered me incapable of taking down my own tent?"

"If the crown fits," Bertram chimed in.

"I hate you...you're a bad person," Alistair stomped over to his horse and attempted to put his saddle on the white stallion he had been made to ride. He was immediately divested of said saddle by one of the other soldiers they had brought along. "What? I can't even saddle my own horse?"

"No," Bertram chuckled.

"Maker!" Alistair growled. "Alright, I've had enough of this. I'm marching off in..." he searched the perimeter and then pointed in a random direction, "...that direction. I'm going to go relieve myself. I trust that I can at least do that by myself."

"Oh, certainly," Bertram grinned.

"Thank you!" Alistair said with relief and started towards the direction he had pointed.

"Just take Meyers with you," Bertram called out and the templar guard stood up to follow Alistair.

Alistair glared at Bertram again, "Unbelievable! Why do we need an accompaniment of Templars again?" He eyed Meyers and it occurred to him that this is what it must feel like to be a Mage in the Circle Tower, they didn't get to pee by themselves either. He should rectify that when he got back to the palace. Mages deserved some privacy once and awhile.

"The Chantry is sending them with you because Knight-Commander-frigid-bit-," the Templar woman in question came within ear shot and he got quiet until she passed them by. "Until Knight-Commander Rylock has secured that escaped Apostate being held at Vigil's Keep. Some mage named Anders. Escaped from the tower seven times, or so I'm told."

"Seven? You mean they haven't hanged him yet?" Alistair was impressed. "Might be someone Selene will want a look at," he looked at the Templar waiting to escort him to his royal piss. "Alright, fine. But just so you know, I don't like this."

Bertram waved the King off and Alistair shook his head. Being King was really beginning to get on his last nerve. Not that he had many to start out with. No...no nerves of steel for Alistair. He grunted in irritation and set off to 'water the garden' as Oghren would have put it. After a few moments of walking he heard a noise. Unfortunately it was being masked by the inept crashing of the templar beside him. He frowned. No wonder Morrigan and her mother were able to avoid being captured by the chantry for so long. He shot the man a look and put out his hand motioning for him to halt. "Stop moving!" he hissed.

Meyers stopped abruptly and Alistair could see the quizzical look in the man's eyes through the slit in his helmet. Alistair cocked his head to the side and the noise came again. A growl. Then the whispering. He pulled his longsword and shield. "Dark Spawn!"

They melted out of the early morning fog, their twisted weaponry raised and their ruined faces twisted into cruel grins. Alistair picked out the Hurlock emissary and charged. He could only hope that Meyers was right behind him or at least had run back to camp to sound the alarm, otherwise Alistair might die before his rule had truly begun.

He met the first hurlock with the full force of his shield, driving it to the ground and then thrust downwards, the point of Maric's blade piercing it's chest and heart. He might be King now, he might be forced to have people wait on him hand and foot. But this dance was one that no one could take from him. For even though he was now King, he was, is and forever will be...a Grey Warden. He fell into step with the creatures easily and for a whisper of a moment he could almost feel her at his side, his beloved...his Selene. He could hear the ring of her swords in his ears, the pitch of her warcry spurring them on, urging him to keep fighting, to keep living, to kill them all.

He was so caught up in the memories of fighting at her side that he barely realized that he had killed almost all of them until there were no creatures attacking. He whirled around, barely believing that he had cut them all down. That was until his eyes fell on a dark spawn in purple, its face painted in white and red. In its grasp it held a frightened Meyers, his helmet was gone and the dark spawn held a dagger to the templar's neck.

"I, here before you am 'The Whithered'," the creatured gurgled out. "I bring a message from he who will be your salvation, human."

Alistair's eyebrows climbed to new heights on his forehead and he shook his head as if to settle them back into place. "Wait...did you just talk?" memories of his dream snaked through his mind renewing the horror he had felt upon waking from his nightmare two nights before.

The thing laughed, "You are thinking you know of my kind, human King. That will soon be changed."

"Right, well...why don't you put down the Templar and we can talk about it? I'll even invite the other Warden's, we'll have cheese and cake...maybe even cheesecake. We'll even make party of it and we can all sit in a circle and hold hands," Alistair said trying to sound nonchalant. "You know I don't think I remember seeing you at the last party we had, you know...the whole blight thing. Then again," he chuckled, "you dark spawn all look alike to me."

'The Whithered' growled, "The Architect is sending you his greetings and is urging you to get to Vigil's Keep, little King. We have gone there to seek out your Commander and have not found her. Keep her close to you, 'The Mother' seeks her revenge for Kal'Hirol. She will not be as merciful as I am being," with that the creature slit Meyers' throat and then made a slashing motion through the air. A force like magic threw Alistair backwards.

* * *

Zevran rubbed the palms of his hands over his face in effort to ease the tension from it. Surely if his companions kept up their argumentative banter he would end up killing one of them. Preferably the miserable Dalish 'beauty'. How he was beginning to loathe her! Nathaniel could be a bit of a wet rag himself at times, but he always had an underlying sense of humor. That and he truly did not seem to mind Zevran's shameless flirting, even if he proclaimed it unwelcomed. With the addition of Velanna to their company however, Nathaniel had taken an almost obscene delight in baiting her until the woman screeched or threw something at him. Truly, it was like traveling with children.

Thankfully they had neared sight of the keep just before she threw a rock at his friends head. Nathaniel's attention had been diverted to the Keep and he regarded it with a wistful sad expression. Zevran had long ago surmised that his family must have served the former Arl. The man seemed to eager to get back to Amaranthine and Vigil's Keep itself.

Zevran too had taken a moment to observe their destination. The place that had taken his Grey Warden away for such piffling things as 'duty' and 'honor'. '_Who needs duty with legs like hers!' _ he thought inwardly and not for the first time. He was drawn away from visions of her lovely legs when he noticed that all was not as it should be for a Grey Warden Keep. Granted he had not seen many but he had been in Selene's company for a fair amount of time. Enough to know that she would never let the Keep be without a very visible Grey Warden presence. The very fact that there were no guards standing upon the fortress ramparts set the little hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. Something was definitely very, very wrong here. He put his hand out and restrained Nathaniel by the forearm.

"Zevran?" Nathaniel could tell by the look in the Antivan Assassin's eyes that something was not right.

"You've been here before," Zevran replied quietly. "Tell me, are there not usually guards on the top of those ramparts? What's more, shouldn't there be more activity in general?"

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes at the elf and then turned back to regard the keep and nodded. "Yes, no one familiar with the way military base of commands are run would leave the Keep so unguarded. Which can only mean that it is deserted...or this is a trap."

Velanna looked between the two, "Trap? Could the dark spawn have been here as well?"

The two men looked at her with similar horrified expressions. She snorted. "Oh, honestly. You can't tell me that they are smart enough to fool me, but not smart enough to figure out a way to take a fortress!"

Zevran shook his head still not convinced, "Regardless, we need to find a way in that is not directly through the front door, as it were. There may be survivors." Zevran groaned inwardly. Too much time with Grey Wardens and time spent outside the Crows really had turned him into a soft hearted bastard with a hero complex.

"I agree," Nathaniel said. "I may know a way in, follow me."

Zevran regarded Nathaniel with carefully hidden suspicion but followed his new-found friend anyway. At the very least he would find out if Selene was alive, amongst the dead or hopefully away at one of the other Fortresses.

* * *

Selene had dismounted about a mile outside the city of Amaranthine, as had become custom for her whenever visiting the city. As she neared the gates she realized that things seemed a little off. There were people crowded outside the gates and a lone guard turning people away. She frowned.

As she approached she realized that she didn't recognize the guard, '_He must be new,' _she thought. "Guard, why are you turning people away?" she asked.

"Smugglers ma'am. I have to check your belongings before you can be let into the city," the guard made a move towards her horse.

"I am the Warden-Commander and your Arlessa," she informed him with an impatient tone.

"I'm sorry, but its orders-,"

"Are you insane? This is the Commander of the Grey!" Captain Aidan barked out and thwacked the young guard in the back of the head.

"I'm sorry Captain!" the young guard saluted and scurried off.

Selene regarded the Captain with a lifted eyebrow and was rewarded with a sheepish smile. He ran his hand through his short curly blond hair. "Sorry about that Commander. You just caught us at a bad time," he smiled apologetically.

She gave him a reassuring one in return. "No offense taken Aidan. So," she tilted her head to the side.

"Smuggler's?"

"Yeah, right nasty little bastards too. Can't seem to get close enough to their ringleaders to find out where their hiding out so we can take care of them. For now all we can do is try and keep the stolen goods out and keep the legitimate traders protected," he gestured for him to follow him through the gates and as she grabbed the reigns of her black mare and fell into step with him he cast a sidelong glance in her direction. "I don't suppose that you could...perhaps...?" he trailed off hopefully.

Selene rolled her eyes skyward. "You want me to take care of the big bad smugglers?" she teased.

He gave an embarrassed chuckle, "Well...look, I'm undermanned and crime is up, I've all I can do to keep the city from breaking out in riot. I haven't really the time nor resources to deal with these damned smugglers," he finished with a frustrated sigh.

"Oh alright, yes! I'll take care of the smugglers," she laughed. "How is Nel?"

The scowl on his face lifted into a ear to ear grin. "Ready for it to be over. Truthfully, so am I! I never knew that pregnant women could be so violent...and weepy...then violent again! The other day she was crying because she broke one of the yolks trying to make me eggs for breakfast. When I told her it was definitely not something to cry over she pitched a fit and tried to brain me with the skillet!"

Selene laughed. "Well, I'm sure it will happen very soon. Congratulations again and give Nel my love," she patted his shoulder amiably. "I'm off to the market district, perhaps I'll learn something of your smugglers."

"Good luck Commander," he replied and waved goodbye before turning back towards the gate.

Selene boarded her horse at the stables and contemplated heading directly to the market district when she got a whiff of herself. Her nose wrinkled. "Perhaps I should get a room and bathe first," she contemplated.

The Crown and Lion was the oldest Inn and Tavern in Amaranthine, it certainly looked the part. She opened the door and surveyed the common room. It wasn't large like the 'Gnawed Noble Tavern' but it was neat and presentable. A few men sat drinking their pints at tables pushed into corners and some debated drunkenly over who'd win in a fight, Andraste or the Archdemon. (That one made her chuckle)

She crossed the room and sat down at the bar and waited for the Inn Keep to notice her presence. "H-eyy. I know... (belch) I know you!"

Selene turned and almost fell off her stool. "Oghren! What by Maker's blessed blue balls are _you_ doing here?" she exclaimed.

"Can't believe your eyes can ya?" he snickered. "Yeah, I get like that...after about ten drinks."

"Well, you have to admit that its an odd place for you to just suddenly show up," Selene caught the Inns Keep's eye and motioned for him to give her an Ale.

"_You_ just showed up, I've been here for days," Oghren grumbled.

"And we'd appreciate it if you'd _leave_," the Inn Keeper plunked Selene's Ale down in front of her. "He keeps on this way, Miss, and I'll have to close down 'til I can restock!"

"Oh stop squealing like a girl, you sodding knock-kneed surface wanker!" Oghren drawled out and took another swig of his ale. He turned to Selene to find her looking at him questioningly. "What's your problem?"

"Surface wanker?" Selene scoffed.

"I ran out of creative insults this morning," Oghren wiped the foam from his mustache. "So, Commander. You wanna know why I'm here? Went to Vigil's Keep to see if I couldn't try my hand at being a bonafide Grey Warden. One of the lads there sent me to this sorry excuse for a tavern to try and find a Warden named Kristoff. Slappy here," he gestured to the Inns Keeper. "Won't let me anywhere near his room to investigate. This fella Kristoff...disappeared you see. One of my tasks before becoming a Grey Warden is to find him."

Selene tried to keep the smirk off her face but failed. "You know, if you wanted to be a Grey Warden you only needed to ask me. There's no better dwarf I'd rather have at my side," she grinned.

"You know it, I know it...but you're stupid recruits and that slack jawed Varel don't know it. 'Sides, after a few days of their sodding 'duty' talk, I just got the itch to kill something. Had to get out of there. Or get really drunk, and you didn't have enough ale in that cellar to keep a man like me happy," he chuckled.

Selene shook her head. "Here's another question, why did you decide you wanted to become a Warden?"

"Oh, you know I'm not one for being an authority figure. The little pike twirler wanted me to get those lads up in Denerim trained up like real warriors. Well, I did that. Then I did what I always do when I'm not killin' something," he belched again.

"You got really drunk and did something obscene with a potted plant?" Selene asked.

"By all the Ancestors, Woman! That was only that once and I tell you, that plant was asking for it!" Oghren growled. "Anyway...needless to say I got let go. Then Felsi kicked me out."

The amused smile slid off her face. "Oh, Oghren! I'm so sorry."

"Bah! It wouldn't have worked out. I'm not into all that domestic crap anyway. So, now you know why _I'm_ here. Why are _you_ here?" he finished the last of his Ale and then eyed hers, grinning goofily when she sighed and pushed it over to him.

"Well, I was actually heading back to Vigil's Keep, I wanted to get a bit of news and a good nights sleep so I stopped off here," she watched the redheaded Dwarf take a gulp of her Ale. "So Kristoff is missing? He was one of the Orlesian Wardens that greeted me at the Keep when I first took over the Arling. Did Varel or Watcher Argus tell you what he was doing here?"

"Nah, nobody tells me nothin'. Bunch of thunder-humpers!" he eyed the Inn Keeper. "Maybe if you ask him real nice he'll let you into Kristoff's room,"he suggested.

Selene did just that, and after learning that she was Kristoff's Commander, he gave her the key, on condition that she get Oghren to his room and put him out of the innkeeper's misery. She agreed and after securing her own room for the night she half carried half dragged Oghren to his.

When she got him there she let him collapse on his bed and she started taking off his Legion armor. "You know, I never did understand why the little pike twirler let you go. It obviously wasn't like you lacked in bedroom skills," he said suddenly.

"Oghren!" she admonished.

"What? You can't hide the fact that you and the chantry boy forged the moaning statue!" he leered at her drunkenly. "Everyone at camp heard the two of you ruttin like a pair of crazed nugs!"

"We are _not_ having this conversation!" she replied vehemently.

"You can't pretend you're not a wildcat in the sack, I saw those scratch marks you left on old Al's back!" he chuckled.

She ignored him while he went on and on about her supposed sexual prowess as she concentrated on getting his plate armor off. Finally she got it all off him and realized that he was snoring. She shook her head.

"Not even two in the afternoon and he's already passed out," she passed a hand over her face and realized that she could do with a nap of her own. She set off to find her own room. She'd deal with the smugglers and Kristoff later that evening.

On her way there, she passed by an open door. The couple inside were locked in a passionate embrace.

"Oh Bran," she heard the woman sigh. Selene felt as if she'd had a bucket of icewater thrown over her.

That had been her...not so long ago. A mere three days ago in fact. She had been sheltered in the arms of a man she thought she could truly love.

Selene made it to her room and shut the door behind her. Leaning her back against it she sunk downwards until her knees were drawn up to her chest. She dug her palms into her eyes, willing the tears and images from the past month away. But as her father had once said, "My darling girl, if only will could make it so." The tears and images flooded her. Not only of Ser Perth but of a certain blond King. One that even now she could not deny she still had feelings for. As much as she tried to lie to herself and others about it. She'd almost fooled herself in forgetting Alistair when she had been with Andre. But now, as she replayed every tender moment with each of them, she felt as though a great yawning pit opened up in the middle of her chest. Twice now she had fallen in love with someone who was too good to be true. And twice now, she had had it proven to her that they really were just that, too good to be true.

"Maker, if only I could be made tranquil," she growled before pulling herself off the cold stone floor and falling into her bed.

* * *

**A/N: Hope you've enjoyed the chapter. Please let me know what you think of Oghren. Let me know if he's not Oghren-ish enough. And where have my reader's gone? I haven't heard from many of you in awhile. Give me a shout out, let me know you're alive!**


	14. Chapter 14

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 14:**

Andre glared at Avernus. The blood-mage sneered back. Watcher Rilyn grinned from ear to ear. "Now Avernus, I thought it would be beneficial to Andre if he understood your work here at the Peak more fully. So, to that end I am leaving him to your tender, loving care," the Dalish elf gave the bowing salute and left before either of the men could utter a word of protest.

"So," Avernus folded his scrawny arms over an equally scrawny chest, and looked down his nose at Ser Perth. "I see you've chased away our dear Commander. I say, if all I had to do to get her off my back was to tell her that I was morally opposed to everything she stood for, I would have done it a long time ago. Good show," Avernus's last words were dripping with sarcasm.

"I did _not_ tell her that I was morally opposed to all she stood for. I told her to get rid of _you_," Andre said coldly.

"Oh? Aren't they the same thing? The current focus of my research is to find a way to reverse blight disease, and perhaps even increase the chances for female Grey Wardens to bear children. Do you not think these are admirable goals?" Avernus asked seriously.

"I don't object to your goals, Mage. Only your methods," Andre replied defensively.

"I only use blood-magic when I have no alternatives, Ser Knight. And even then only with good intentions. Your Commander made me swear to stop all my darker research when she spared my life," the mage turned away from Andre and set about making notations in one of his books.

"She still allowed you to live," Andre bit out.

"Such bitterness and hatred," Avernus chortled.

"Things you'd know nothing about, I'm sure," Andre replied sarcastically.

Avernus chuckled, a sound that would set even the bravest warriors blood to curdle. "Can I ask you something?"

Ser Perth's regarded the Mage warily, "If you must."

"You're aware, of course, that the Commander journeyed to the sacred resting place of Andraste, and retrieved a pinch of Sacred ashes from the Urn?" Avernus asked with his nose still buried in his notes.

"I was in Redcliffe at the time, the ashes saved the Arl. So yes, I do remember," Andre replied.

"Did you also know that the ashes are protected by a guardian? One of a select few disciples that personally carried the remains of Andraste herself to that temple and has been on guard there ever since?" Avernus looked up from his notes to find Andre looking at him in puzzlement.

"No, I did not. What does that have to do with anything?" he asked.

"When Selene confronted the Guardian he explained to her that if she was not found worthy, she would not be allowed to approach the Urn," Avernus said.

"Your point?" Andre growled.

"My point is, _fool_! That before she even went to retrieve those precious ashes she imbibed the very same joining blood that you had! If Andraste or the Maker deemed her unworthy, she would never have _seen_ those Ashes. And yet, she brought them back to your Arl and they were obviously genuine because they cured him, did they not?" Avernus snarled out the rhetorical question. "I find it wonderfully ironic that a woman who condones blood-magic has been allowed the privilege of touching the burnt corpse of your deity's bride and yet many, many so called 'believers' and faithful pilgrims have tried and failed to get even remotely close to them!"

Andre could only stare at Avernus. He hadn't heard the whole story. "I didn't realize-," Andre started to say.

"Of course you didn't!" Avernus hissed. "Because you're a closed minded Chantry sheep! I suppose it didn't even occur to you to look past whatever flaws she does have, to see the truth. All you see is the pristine 'Hero of Ferelden'. You fell in love with an ideal, boy! You know nothing of the woman behind the myth!"

Andre felt angry and also a little ashamed. "I don't think I only fell in love with 'The Hero of Ferelden', there is much to love about her as a person," he said trying to defend himself.

"Alright have it your way, Ser Knight. What's her favorite color?" Avernus prodded. "Her favorite food? Which smile of hers melts your heart?"

Andre was again taken aback. "I....don't know."

"_You don't know_?" Avernus mocked. "Any idiot in love knows those things about their beloved."

Long moments passed before Andre spoke again. "Perhaps your words hold some truth after all, Master Mage."

"Bah!" Avernus looked at Andre with disgust. "Perhaps young Knight, a little self reflection is in order before you go about blaming your inadequacies and prejudices on other people. Now," he gestured to a sink filled with empty vials. "Wash those out with soap and water. Take care not to let any of their contents linger on your skin. I should hate to have you poisoned before I've found some use for you."

Andre did as he told, still mulling over all that Avernus had said.

* * *

Fergus stood outside the door to Leliana's chambers, a bouquet of red roses from the gardens of Highever Castle in his right hand and a small square black box tucked away in a trouser pocket. It had been two weeks since he declared his feelings to Leliana. Those two weeks having been nearly the best two weeks in his whole life. He had proposed to Oriana in front of a whole dining hall full of nobles, both their parents looking on, and he had made himself sick with nerves before then. Though he loved Oriana, he had been pushed into the marriage before he'd been ready. Shortly thereafter they had Oren and it was then that everything seemed right and he was happy.

But this time, he was utterly besotted. And with an Orlesian woman, of all things! He thought that Father would be proud of him. Mother would fret about how others might feel about the new Teryna being an Orlesian, and his dear sister. Two years ago Selene would have done what she'd always done whenever Fergus became interested in a girl. She would have made gagging noises and teased him mercilessly. He desperately wanted her here to do that, as childish as the gesture would be, it would be a comfort. To not be alone before he faced a major life changing event such as this.

They had both agreed to dinner in her rooms tonight. It had been intimated by the lady that she expected that Fergus would not be leaving until the morning as she told him that he should tell the guards not to worry if he did not make it back to his room that night. He had planned to ask her to marry him before now, but...the timing never seemed right. Or at least, he had chickened out before he could ask.

But now as he stood outside her door, roses and ring at the ready. He felt that he would be afforded no better time than this. He gathered his courage and raised his fist to deliver two sharp wraps of his battlefield roughened knuckles to the large heavy oak door.

A melodius, "Just a moment!" greeted him from within and he felt his stomach flip. Soon after, he heard the latch lifting and the door swung open. And there stood the Angel from Orlais, the jewel of Val Royeaux, and by far the most precious treasure he would ever posses. He valiantly fought the urge to drop to his knees before her and instead took her right hand with his left, and kissed it reverently. She tittered appreciatively and he held up the red roses.

Her eyes lit up she smiled that smile he had come to adore, that one smile that she alone could use to melt his heart. "Do you like them, My Lady?" he asked nervously.

She took them and then held them up to her nose breathing their scent in deeply. "Oh! They are absolutely lovely, Fergus! Did you know that red was my favorite color?"

Fergus could only nod as she took his hand and drew him into her room. She led him to a small table where the servants had laid out a meal for them to share. After making sure that he was comfortable she bustled about getting the flowers into some water. He smiled to himself when she put them on the side table next to her bed.

When she came back, he stood and pulled out her chair, noticing the blush that came to her porcelain cheeks. He pushed it in and then seated himself. They ate, each giving each other shy glances over their wine. Fergus pushed the food around on his plate nervously.

"Fergus?" Leliana covered his hand with her own. "You haven't eaten very much, are you feeling alright, my love?"

Fergus felt his mouth go dry. Better to do it now, before he lost his courage. He was a Cousland after all, it was time to act like one. He turned his hand over in hers so that their palms met and he closed his fingers over her smaller ones. He stood only to kneel at her side. He slipped his other hand into his pocket and brought out the small box. Her delighted gasp eased his nerves and he risked a glance upwards into her eyes and found the crystalline blue orbs sparkling with unshed tears. Tears that he hoped were ones of happiness.

He cleared his throat and opened the box, revealing the ruby and diamond ring. "Leliana," he took the ring out of the box and held it between his thumb and forefinger. "This ring was once my Mother's, my Father had given it to her when he proposed. My Mother and Father loved each other deeply from the moment they first laid eyes on one another. And from the day this ring was given to her until the day she left this world, it never left her hand. I know that we've only known each other for a short period of time. But in that time you have made me feel... so many things. I am no poet, nor am I a bard. I have no words for how much I have come to care for you, the very idea of you walking out of my life, even for a short period of time, breaks my heart. So, to protect my heart, I can foresee only one remedy, and that is to ask humbly for your hand in marriage," he took a deep breath. "Leliana, will you consent to being my wife?" All at once he found himself with an armful of redheaded bard. She peppered his face with kisses, each punctuated with the word, "Yes!"

He laughed and held her away from him long enough to place the ring on her ring-finger only to have her lips crash against his enthusiastically. He met her kiss just as happily, returning it with relief and all the love within his heart.

* * *

"_For a moment there, I thought I almost lost you," hazel eyes peered down at her lovingly from under a spiky reddish blond ridiculously well maintained head of hair that she had come to adore in the time since her joining. His hands clasped hers, he pulled her forward and whispered words into her ear that she had been longing to hear since they defeated the Archdemon, "I can't wait to be alone with you."_

_She felt heat rising to her cheeks. "Meet you upstairs later?" She purred back in a voice huskier than she intended._

_She was answered by a brush of masculine lips against her cheek, "I'll be waiting, love."_

"Rise'n'shine, Warden!" Oghren's voice rudely broke through the fade and she suddenly found herself in a heap on the floor, she sat up and shook her head. When the fog of sleep cleared, she raised her glare upwards until it found a fully armored Oghren clutching her sheet in his hands and bent over, laughing raucously.

"Heh, heh, seems like I never could get the hang of that trick! I've just as much luck whippin' the sheets out from under Warden-Commander's as I do table cloths from under plates! What's the matter Warden? You look redder 'n' a freshly spanked nug!" he chuckled.

Selene folded her arms over her chest, "I'll have you know you woke me out of a pretty decent dream you knucklehead!"

Oghren chuckled again. "Oh, aye! '_Oh Alistair, you're so handsome! And such a big strong hunk of Templar! Can I play with your sword?'_" he said mimicking her voice and then collapsed into laughter again.

"Just for that, may the Maker bless you with a burning rash on your daddy-bags, you drunken sodding Duster!" she grumbled and pulled herself to her feet.

"Heh, I missed you too Warden!" he grinned. "Ain't had me a good verbal sparrin' since you took this sodding job. Fightin' with Felsi got to be no fun, damn woman was always threatening to take away Bronto greasin' night. Well, I'll leave you to your girlie morning rituals. You'll find me at the bar when you're ready to take a look at 'ol Kristoff's room."

Selene watched the dwarf leave and close the door behind him. "Andraste's blood! I slept that long?" she made her way over to the window and threw open the shutter. Sure enough it was early the next morning.

She rubbed her hands over her face. "Holy Maker! I _was_ dreaming about Alistair!" she could have slapped herself. When was she ever going to get over that man!

Pushing aside thoughts of the King, Selene washed up and changed. She found Oghren a little while later, already two ales into his day. She sighed heavily and made him eat breakfast before dragging him back upstairs. The two of them entered Kristoff's room thinking they would solve a mystery, only to have the mystery become more...mysterious.

"Either he plans on coming back, which isn't sodding likely, or something's happened to him, Commander," Oghren stepped up beside her and craned his neck upwards to look at the map she was studying. "You think this Kristoff fella found something in that town he circled?" he asked as he tugged on one of his red beard braids.

"Or something found him," she said ominously. "Come on, lets get his things together and get out of here. I have some smuggler's to make disappear and then we should get back to Amaranthine. I'd like to talk to Argus and Varel about this."

"Aye, something's not right here. Not right at all," Oghren agreed.

* * *

Nathaniel led his two companions through the underground passages of Vigil's keep. To his great dismay there were ghouls overrunning the place. One of them was the woman who had raised him, Adraia. He watched as Zevran's blades severed her head from her neck. A 'mercy', or so the elf said. Though he knew it in his heart to be true, it did not dispel the feeling that he had just helped to murder the only mother he'd ever known. When Zev had asked him who the woman was to him, he had answered truthfully. "The only mother I had ever known."

Blissfully neither Zev or Velanna had uttered a word since they'd entered the underground passages. Though he could feel the Antivan's eyes on him. He would figure out who Nathaniel was, sooner or later. Probably sooner, and then it would be all over for Nathaniel. He hoped that he could at least get some of his family's things before he was discovered. Originally, he'd hoped to kill Selene. But as he traveled the pilgrim's path with Zevran he'd come to learn a great deal more about the woman than he had been told before coming back to the Arling. Though he didn't necessarily believe that his father was even half the traitor that the elf proclaimed he was, his father had done what one normally does in war. Take advantage of the situation to strengthen one's power so when the dust cleared, you were at least in a better position than when the trouble started. To the victor goes the spoils. It had been a lesson his Father had striven to teach him all his life. He could perhaps accept that his father may have been on the wrong side during the civil war. But, he was no traitor. That being said the new Arlessa had proven to be a capable ruler and the Arling was flourishing under her care. So, rather than cause more upheaval, he decided to simply take a few mementos and fade quietly into the night.

He prayed that the Assassin would not find him out before then. He had grown quite fond of the Antivan and did not want to have to kill him.

They reached the door that led up to the courtyard and they all stopped before it, Nathaniel looked into each of their eyes. "Are you ready?"

They both nodded, weapons drawn and faces set in stern lines. He took a deep breath and opened the door. There were three gasps as they set eyes on the carnage before them. Bodies lie in piles, dragged there by survivors who were even now adding to their numbers. Wounded lie under makeshift awnings on cots and moaned and wailed in pain. Soldiers darted back and forth with buckets of water to put out fires. Some of the Keeps inner walls were in shambles.

A woman soldier passed close by and Zevran caught her by the arm, "Pardon me, my good woman. What has happened here?"

The woman looked at the three, "Dark spawn attacked the Vigil. They're mostly gone now, but we've lost almost half the Keep's soldiers and all of the Warden's were either slaughtered or taken," she said wearily.

"Taken? By the Dark Spawn?" Zevran asked incredulously. "Men _and_ women?"

"Like Seranni!" Velanna's voice held a note of terror.

"The Warden-Commander!" Zevran said suddenly, "Where is she?"

The woman seemed to relax a bit, "She was not here when it happened, Maker be praised. We would be lost without the 'Hero of Ferelden'!" she bid the three farewell.

"Thank the Maker!" Zevran breathed a sigh of relief when the woman was gone.

Nathaniel raised an eyebrow at the elf as it wasn't like him to praise the Maker or Andraste. "Lets see if we can't help out while she's away then shall we?" he said and then set off in the direction of the wounded tent, Velanna in tow.

Zevran watched his friend and the blond elven maiden at his side and wondered once again what Nathaniel's intentions were. '_Well_', he mused, _'we shall find out soon enough, I suppose.'_ But until then he would try and help clean this mess up before Selene got here.

As if in answer there was a shout from somewhere on the Vigil's ramparts, "Travelers on the road!" Zevran ran towards the gate and found not his beautiful Grey Warden but the King of Ferelden stalking angrily up the road.

"Oh, this can't be good," he muttered to himself. He decided that the best course of action was to sink to one knee and hope that the fortune teller was right in that he would not die young.

"Zev!" Alistair growled as he closed the distance between them.

"King Alistair, it is so wonderful to see you again," he looked up at Alistair through his lashes.

Which had the desired effect as Alistair looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Oh get up! You know I hate that!"

"As you wish," Zevran stood and arched an eyebrow at the ex-templar. "Pardon my asking, Majesty. But what are you doing here, precisely?"

"I had a bad feeling," Alistair said by way of explanation.

"Oh? Perhaps you were not feeling the right thing, then?" he replied with a leer.

"Zevran," Alistair warned.

Zevran sighed theatrically. "Well alright, if you must be serious. Selene is not here, my friend. I arrived only a short while ago, but she has not been here in weeks. This all happened within the last few days."

Alistair seemed to relax, "Thank the Maker she wasn't here for this!"

Zevran clucked his tongue, "Save your thanks for when she arrives, my dear friend Alistair. For now we need to help what remains of the Vigil's inhabitants."

* * *

A/N: Thank the Maker for my good friend Melismo. I would not be having such a good time without her, grammatically speaking of course. Thank you all for your wonderful reviews and for your continuing support as I drag you through the insanity that is my wild imagination.


	15. Chapter 15

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 15:**

* * *

Zevran watched as Alistair rolled up his proverbial sleeve and lent a hand in setting the Vigil to rights. He usurped command of Knight-Commander Rylock's contingent of Templars and had them gathering the bodies of the fallen. He instructed Varel to identify them all and have any Grey Warden dead he could find separated from the rest. He would need to make an accounting to Selene of who was dead and who was missing. The Seneschal was haggard and sleep deprived but he did as the King commanded.

Soon a Sergeant Maverlies had come to tell them that she believed that some explosives developed by the resident mentally unstable dwarf, Dworkin had caused a cave in below the keep. She also indicated that the underground tunnels might be where the dark spawn had infiltrated the fortress and that there were still some down there that needed to be taken care of. To Zevran's astonishment Alistair nodded and said simply, "I'll take care of it Sergeant, have your men clear the rubble and let me know as soon as we can get down there."

Zevran grinned as Alistair regarded him with a look he knew all too well, "Oh! By 'we' you mean, you and I?"

"If it wouldn't strain your pampered assassin's backside too much then, yes. I meant you and I," Alistair replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Aha! A leisurely stroll through a maze of dark spawn and perhaps evil traps, and other potentially lethal dangers, my oh my...how you spoil me!" Zevran purred.

"Honestly, do you ever let up? Or are you just one big walking-," Alistair was cut off when Knight-Commander Rylock and two Templars strode up to him. The Templars had a struggling mage between them within their grasp and following closely behind with a scowl on his face was the Seneschal.

"Your Majesty, I've retrieved the apostate and would like your leave to take this man back to the tower to face judgement," Alistair winced as her sharp harpy-like voice heightened his migraine.

"Pardon me, your Majesty. But this Mage helped defend the Vigil _and_ he saved my life. I would think that deserves at least some kind of leniency. It is also my belief that the Warden-Commander would like to have a look at him for the Grey Wardens. After what has happened here, she will need to replenish her numbers," Varel interjected.

"What! Never!" she turned to the Mage. "I will see you hanged for what you've done here, murderer!" she screeched.

"Murderer! But those Templar's were...oh never mind, you wouldn't believe me anyway," the Mage muttered.

Alistair looked at Varel questioningly. "Murdered Templars?"

"They were guarding the Mage when the dark spawn invaded the Keep, Sire. Anders tried to save them but they were cut down. He managed to kill the dark spawn and then instead of using the chance he was given to flee, he proceeded to look for survivors. That's when he found me. A dark spawn called 'The Whithered' had a knife at my throat before Anders here came and drove him off," Varel explained tiredly and glared at the Knight-Commander who glared back.

"Yes, I've met 'The Whithered', quite the charmer. Well, being that I am the only available Grey Warden at the moment...Anders?" his eyes fell on the Mage.

The Mage raised his head and met his eyes with a look of resignation. "Yes, King Alistair?"

Alistair chuckled, he liked the young Mage already. "I do hereby conscript you into the Grey Wardens. Maker have mercy on your soul."

"Your Majesty, you can't-," the woman Templar started angrily and was interrupted by a surprisingly menacing growl from the King.

"Take care how you finish that sentence Commander Rylock," Alistair voice was colder than the Frostback mountains and Zevran actually shivered. "I have precious little patience for insubordination, and even less for impertinent Templars!"

"I am...sorry, Majesty. I had spoken too quickly," her mouth pursed as if she had eaten something sour, and she stalked away.

Zevran regarded Alistair with a grin, "Seems you have developed a backbone after all, Alistair. Selene will be so proud of you! Maker's breath..._I'm_ proud of you, and we never even got the chance to knock boots!"

"Eh...go knock your own boots," Alistair grumbled out but blushed all the same.

Anders stood looking back and forth between the two, perhaps confused by their banter. Alistair belatedly realized that Anders and Varel were still standing there and he chuckled nervously. "Zev is an old friend...well, not that kind of friend..." he shot Zevran a glare when the elf chortled next to him. "Anyway! Welcome to the Grey Wardens, Anders," he took the Mage's hand and shook it.

"Me? A Grey Warden?" he seemed to mull the idea over in his head and then smiled, "Well, I guess that'll work!"

"Providing you survive the joining it can even be lots of fun, or at least it seems that way. I would have joined long ago if I were not too pretty to die in the deep-roads in thirty years," Zevran picked at his nails and ignored the irritated glance from Alistair.

"Pardon me, Sire. But I need to take my leave. We'll be burning the bodies shortly, and I need to complete the list of all the missing and dead Grey Warden's. We've retrieved all the bodies in the Keep. It seems that there are no living Warden's left, other than you," Varel finished with a dejected tone.

Alistair felt a pang in his chest. All those people...just gone, "That is...disheartening. Carry on, Varel."

"Thank you, Sire," the Seneschal bowed and then left the three alone.

"Well my dear Anders," Zevran began, "care to help his Majesty and me rid the dungeons of pesky dark spawn?"

"Why not? Not like I have anything better to do anyhow," Anders shrugged.

As if on cue Sergeant Maverlies appeared from the dungeon door, "We are ready, Sire."

Alistair regarded the elf and then the mage with a determined expression, "Alright, let's go."

* * *

Selene watched as Oghren took out the last batch of smugglers single handedly. He'd gone into berserker mode just as the last bunch rushed them and she didn't feel like having her head accidentally taken off by the big Dragonbone ax he was swinging around. So she'd put her back against a pine tree and enjoyed the shade as he did one of the two things he was really good at. Making a great big, bloody, sodding mess of the enemy. (The other thing he did well of course being drinking, but she had yet to see a practical application for getting so drunk that a plant looked...appealing.)

When he was done he approached her with a swagger that had her snickering. He was of course covered in blood and sweating like a pig. His normally white face was red with exertion making his beard appear orange in comparison. Yet, he still grinned like he was the biggest gift to womankind Thedas had ever known. "Aye, keep on gawkin' woman, it's all muscle. Pure all natural, manly, splendor."

"You're something alright," Selene snorted. Then she indicated the abandoned house that they had found with a trap door with a slight tilt of her head. "So, their hideout do you think?"

"Only one way to find out, Warden. You're bony arse can go first though, the views a lot nicer when I bring up the rear," he chuckled then handed her the key he'd found on one of the smuggler's corpses.

Selene let out a bark of laughter, "If you say so. Come on, let's go pummel something."

"Aye, now you're talkin'!" Oghren grinned.

She did go down first as she learned long ago that although Oghren was wildly inappropriate, it was mostly just talk. He truly respected her, he just did it in his own way. He was by far, one of the most loyal men she'd ever met and if for some reason the whole of Thedas turned against her, she could count on him to be at her back, ax at the ready. When there was loyalty like that to be had, inappropriate behavior could be overlooked. It struck her that she had not recruited him because she wanted him to have a chance...with Felsi. To be a family man...to have what Branka never gave him.

It was a choice that had been taken away from her. A choice that at the beginning of the blight, she'd felt a little resentful of having ripped away from her. Like most things, she never knew that it was something that she desperately wanted, until she couldn't have it anymore. Her Mother wanted more grandchildren and she felt a stab of guilt that she had been so resistant to marriage. And also perhaps it had a little to do with her family being almost entirely wiped out. Having one of her own would give her more people to love, to cherish, to hang onto. Perhaps a more defined sense of permanency. There were times where she felt that she wasn't really real, like a marionette being pulled around Ferelden by some unseen force, her will not her own. And sometimes she felt as if at any moment that unseen force could put her down and stop imagining her life, stop speaking for her, stop moving her, cause her to be forgotten like a child's play thing. She could at any moment be put on a shelf and left there to collect dust, her story unfinished, her end not known. But if she had a family, perhaps she could feel more connected to this world, somehow.

She was pulled out of these musings as she descended the ladder in the abandoned house and found herself at the bottom blinking to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The shaft opened out into a short tunnel where she waited for Oghren to finish climbing down.

When he was at the bottom he gestured with his ax for her to lead the way. She winked and swished her hips exaggeratedly when she walked and laughed when he snorted. "Ridiculous woman," he muttered in amusement.

She was about to reply with a witty comment when the tunnel opened up to reveal a large cave, the mouth of which led out to a small cove. There were ships anchored within, their goods sat on a small pier, waiting to be smuggled into the city above. Standing close to the pier were three men. Two she surmised to be henchman and the third the ring leader. The leader turned his head as Oghren made an unintentional bodily noise.

"Look what we have here boys!" he pointed at her. "I've heard about you, you've been giving my boys some trouble. Well, it ends right now, right here!" He pulled a pair of daggers and advance on her. The other two had large one handed weapons.

She narrowed her eyes at the advancing men. "Oghren, you take those two. I'll take this one," she said as she locked eyes on her target.

"Aye, sure..." he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then charged. "Come on twinkle-toes, let's see what your innards look like!" he roared.

Selene turned her attention to their leader who was starting to circle her now, he smiled at her widely, revealing blackened teeth. "Now that they're occupied, my sweet. We can have ourselves a little dance."

She pulled her swords from their scabbards, she'd picked up two white steel long-swords at Soldier's Peak. They were no match for Star-fang nor held the sentimental value of her mentor's blade. But they were beautiful and deadly in her own right. Mikael had made them especially for her. "Mind if I lead?" she grinned and made the first move, a feign to his right and he reacted by lashing out at the intentional opening she had left. She spun as he lunged at her unguarded right flank and severed his head from his shoulders.

Selene watched the headless body fall to the floor with a detached curiosity. She heard a chuckle from Oghren behind her. "Yeah, you know I always thought that about you," he said.

One of her dark eyebrows lifted as she cleaned off her blades. "Thought what?"

"You're like a cat, taunting the mouse before you eat it," he observed. "Warden, you're a woman that likes to play with her food."

She sent him a wink. "I've never had any complaints," she said cryptically and laughed when his cheeks reddened.

"Heh, yeah...you want it, they all do. You'll get over it," Oghren chuckled as he recovered and re-harnessed his ax.

She laughed good-naturedly, "You're sure?" She knew this never went anywhere, but she'd let him go on thinking she pined for him none-the-less. After Branka he needed a little self confidence.

"You're a good looking lass but, I've tried twenty-seven different types of Ale, and learned that I'm just the right height to give a human girl a good time. That doesn't make me a good man. Nah, you're better off chasing the little pike twirler," he said reassuringly. "Even he'd be better for you than I would."

"Well, I shall just have to fantasize about you in the meantime then if I can't have the real thing," she chuckled.

"Aye, nothin' wrong with that. Nothin' at all," he laughed and then he looked around the cave. "So are we done here? All this killin and pointless sexual banter makes me thirsty."

* * *

Velanna spent hours helping the wounded. She was surprised at the number of elves that she had tended, some of them Dalish. The hatred she harbored for humans erupted as she tended one of her fallen brethren who had taken a dark spawn arrow in the gut. "Why do you degrade yourself by fighting along side these shemlen. Have you forgotten your people?" she hissed at him.

The Dalish elf narrowed his eyes at her. "Still your tongue, lethallan! I joined for the Warden, not the Shems! The dark spawn threaten all in Ferelden, not just humans. I do this for our people, we must draw the line here and no further. The enemy of our enemy is our friend. Besides that, the Commander is not like any human that I have ever known. You just wait until you meet her, you will see what I mean," after that her fellow Dalish elf refused to speak with her further, and she was forced to examine his words while she tended the other wounded.

After awhile she began to grow tired, she left the medical tent thinking to find Zevran so that she could ask him what her Dalish brother had meant. It was then that she spied Nathaniel skulking off towards the keep, a cloak of night drawn around him so that he would not be noticed. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion and followed after, taking care that he did not see her.

He wove his way through the keep and she followed after, not long after they entered was she lost. She managed to keep an eye on him but in doing so had become completely disoriented. She only hoped that she would be able to find her way out again.

Soon she found herself in a large room, at the front of the room there was a wooden chair, the top of which was formed in the shape of two dogs back to back, in the center a large fire pit held the remnants of a fire. She scanned the room and found Nathaniel standing on a chair, removing a painting of a woman from the wall. Her eyes widened, '_He's nothing but a common thief!_' As a rule, she felt nothing towards these shems, but this man had spent time in their company, claiming that he wanted nothing more than to serve the Warden-Commander, only to have him start pillaging the Vigil while its people lay dying outside. It made her angry. She growled and raised her staff. A few words of a spell fell from her full lips and he was frozen from the waist down, chair and all to the stone floor.

His head swiveled around and he narrowed his eyes at her, "Let me down!"

"Ha! I would sooner have sexual relations with a hurlock then let you escape from me a second time, thief!" she laughed shrilly. "You just wait until I come back with Zevran," she stuck her nose in the air and then left to go find the Antivan.

Anders had proven to be quite useful, in fact Alistair was impressed with him. He had kept up with he and Zevran without any trouble and seemed to have an endless repertoire of spells at hand.

"So tell me something, Anders. I have always wondered about the way Mages dress. Is there a reason they do not allow you to have pants?" Zevran asked as they killed off the last of the dark spawn straggler's beneath the keep.

"Oh, you don't know the story behind the robes?" Anders asked silkily.

Alistair rolled his eyes skyward. Well, at least now Zevran would have someone else to concentrate his Antivan perversions on for awhile.

"No! There are stories? In Antiva we make up stories about our circle of magi, the Mages are guarded jealously by the templars and we do not see many out in public. So we are forced to draw our own conclusions. I have tried to get my friend Wynne to tell me of the Ferelden Circle, but somehow talk of her bosom keeps getting in the way," he grinned as Alistair groaned.

"Well like you said, things are really strict in the Circle. Well, the robes make it easy for quick trysts in the corner. No laces or button, and you're done before the Templar's catch on!" he said in a low conspiratorial voice.

"Oh-ho-ho," Zevran purred. "I can tell that you and I are going to get on famously, my friend."

"Let me ask you something, Anders," Alistair began.

"Ask away, Majesty."

"It's Alistair. You're going to be a fellow Warden, so it's just Alistair," the King replied.

"Alright then, Alistair."

"Why seven escape attempts?" Alistair asked curiously.

"I know, right? After the seventh attempt you'd think they'd give me credit for trying," Anders said exasperatedly.

Alistair chuckled, "I only ask because since the Wardens cleaned out the circle of Abominations it seemed as though the First Enchanter was going to do something about the conditions there."

"Well you would be wrong," Anders said with a hint of bitterness.

"How so?" Alistair asked.

"I wasn't there for that whole...crazy Uldred thing. I was in Denerim at the time. But when I was dragged back, Knight-Commander Gregoir was even more domineering than usual. I was immediately incarcerated in the top of the tower and everyone else was subject to... 'interrogations'."

"Interrogations?" Alistair looked over at the Mage with confusion.

"You mean you don't know?" the mage's face looked shocked.

"Apparently there is a lot I am not aware of where the Chantry is concerned, despite being raised by them. So, enlighten me," Alistair was beginning to get the distinct impression that the Chantry was ignoring the rule of law where it came to Mages. He was going to have to do something about that, and soon.

"Well, periodically Gregoir would have some of the Mages abducted from their sleeping quarters and taken to a room where they were beaten into admitting to blood-magic, whether or not it was true. Seems like he had a mind to come for me next. I had a lot of friends looking out for me, so when I had the opportunity... I took it," he explained.

"I see," Alistair replied. "Well, now that you're in the Grey Wardens that life is over. They'll leave you alone."

"Pardon my saying so, Sire...er...Alistair," he corrected himself with an apologetic smile. "But don't be surprised if that bitch Rylock isn't back to collect me within a week. The Chantry doesn't have a sense of fair play."

They lapsed into a silence then and not long after that Sargent Maverlies came to collect them whilst singing their praises for dispatching the rest of the dark spawn so easily.

Zevran emerged into the damp night from the door leading to the dungeons only to be immediately confronted by an out of breath Velanna.

"Look at you all flushed and panting, it is quite fetching," he grinned.

"Nathaniel is in the throne room attempting to steal things," she huffed out, pointedly ignoring his comment.

Zevran frowned, "Take me to him."

Alistair and Anders simply exchanged confused looks and followed after. Neither having had the chance to be introduced to Nathaniel or to Velanna. When they reached the throne room they found Nathaniel just breaking out of his icy prison, he heard them as he pulled his left foot free of the ice and looked up. "Well, it seems she was able to find her way back to you after all! I suppose then, Sire," he said as he regarded Alistair with contempt. "That you'll be only finishing what you started when you order my execution," he hissed out bitterly.

"Finish what I started?" Alistair's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "I'm sorry, but I don't think we've had the misfortune of crossing paths before."

"Not me," Nathaniel shook his head. "You were there when the Warden-Commander killed my Father!"

"Your Father?" Zevran and Alistair said in unison.

"I am Nathaniel Howe, my Father was the one you slaughtered in his home in Denerim," Nathaniel stood tall and proud with not a trace of remorse on his face.

"That was unexpected," Zevran mused aloud.

Alistair growled, "You're Father slaughtered the entire Cousland family. The youngest was seven years old and he and his unarmed mother didn't even have enough time to scream before your Father had their throats cut!"

Nathaniel's angry expression faltered. "It was a civil war! My Father did what he had to!"

"Are you being deliberately stupid or did you truly not know what your Father was up to?" Alistair's voice was quivering with barely contained rage. All those nights he had held Selene, helpless as she raged over the loss of her family and how closely it mirrored his grief over Duncan. And this arrogant piece of nug shite had the nerve to call them the criminals? "Howe murdered the Couslands just as the Highever army was marching to Ostagar to aid the King and Teryn Loghain against the dark spawn. The Civil War began afterwards, by your Father and by Loghain Mac Tir!" Alistair snarled.

"You lie, Father would never do something like that! Bryce Cousland was my Father's dearest friend, he would never have turned against him unless he had cause to believe the Teryn was a traitor!" Nathaniel stated vehemently.

"Listen to the King, Nathaniel. You're Father was a very sick man," Zevran took a step towards the young disgraced nobleman. "When we entered the Denerim estate, you're Father had tortured many undeserving people, and had Queen Anora imprisoned."

Nathaniel's face went white, "No!"

"How much do you know about what you're Father had become?" Alistair said suspiciously.

"If you're asking if I knew of his plans before the Blight then you'll be disappointed," Nathaniel sneered. "I was sent to squire in the Free Marches years ago. I only recently returned when I heard of my Father's murder."

"As far as I am concerned Nathaniel, it was justice that he fell at Selene Cousland's hands," Alistair said in a low deadly tone. "You're too dangerous to let go. I can't have you try coming back here to finish the treachery you're Father began," he turned to Zevran. "Go get some guards, I have a feeling we'll have some trouble with him," when Zevran nodded, albeit reluctantly, and left to do as Alistair bid, the King turned to Anders, "Anders?"

"Alistair?" the young Mage asked with a lifted eyebrow.

"If he moves, paralyze him," Alistair said with a growl.

"Absolutely!" Anders grinned.

"Velanna, is it?" Alistair turned to the elven woman who was looking at him strangely.

"Yes, Shem-King?" she folded her arms over her scandalously revealing outfit.

"If Anders is too slow, you have my permission to cast a walking bomb spell on this traitor's family jewels," Alistair said with a pointed look at the last surviving male member of the Howe family.

Velanna's favored Nathaniel with a malicious smile, "It would be my pleasure."

Nathaniel gulped and paled visibly.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks again to Melismo for being an awesome Beta. If you haven't peeked at her writing I highly recommend it. Her story "Merciful Blood" is spectaculous! Also, huge thanks to those of you who diligently review, you keep me going! **


	16. Chapter 16

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By BioncaFemme**

**Chapter 16:**

* * *

Eamon eyed the woman sitting on the other side of his desk. She regarded him with equal curiosity. Her eyes were beady and her face pinched, her mouth was seemed permanently puckered. "Are you certain that you can handle this situation Bann Esmerelle?" he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair.

"Are you certain that you can ensure that I get the Arling, Chancellor Eamon?" she asked.

"A King can grant any boon he sees fit. Provided that you can ensure that the targets are disposed of," Eamon tugged on his beard.

"Don't worry Eamon, I think you'll be happy with the results," she assured him and then bowed before leaving his study.

Eamon did not bother to rise, he only watched her go. "Let us just hope you are more useful than Howe was," he muttered to himself when she closed the door behind her and then went back to his paperwork.

* * *

Zevran had informed the guards that Alistair had need of them in the throne room and then stayed behind in the courtyard. There had been many moments of failure in his lifetime. His love for Rinna, his friendship with Taliesan and now Nathaniel sat rotting in a cell when he could have said something, stopped him, talked to him...anything. Anything was better than facing possible execution...especially for only wanting a few of his family's things. He remembered when his Mother's gloves were taken from him, how it pained him to have that last bit of his childhood ripped from him. He could of course see Alistair's point of view, hence the reason he was now pacing the inside of the Vigil walls like a caged lion. He stopped only to watch them leading a shackled Nathaniel Howe to the dungeon beneath the Keep.

The young man had looked up at him as they passed Zevran by. His eyes were hard and cold and their flinty gaze settled on Zev like the touch of steel in winter. Zevran flinched and then raised an eyebrow in contemplation. Alistair was close behind the prisoner and his guards and caught the look on the Antivan's face.

"Oh no!" Alistair grabbed the elf by the upper arm and dragged him off to the side. "I know that look!" he narrowed his eyes at Zevran.

"Oh? What look is that, exactly?" Zevran widened his eyes innocently.

"You _know_. What's more is that you know, that I know, that you know. _Everyone_ knows, just so you know! So you can just stop pretending to be all innocent," Alistair finished, thoroughly confident that what he just said was utterly brilliant.

"Alistair, don't take this the wrong way...but...that makes no sense. Besides," he smiled widely and his smooth voice took on a placating tone, "I am completely certain that with such a big...strong...clever monarch such as yourself, that I will not be getting away with anything. So why bother? It seems a rather futile endeavor, if you don't mind my saying."

Alistair looked down at the shorter man a few moments longer, utterly unconvinced of the elf's innocence. "Leave him to Selene," he said finally.

Zevran dropped his eyes and the act. "As you wish," he said quietly and then startled when Alistair's heavy hand set itself on his shoulder.

"I know we haven't always gotten along and I get a little irritated with you at times, but just this once... trust me," Alistair squeezed his shoulder and then disappeared into the dungeons.

* * *

"Zevran?" A familiar feminine voice called his name and his eyes slid closed and a pained expression passed over his face.

He turned around and there she was, the reigns of her horse in her hands and a huffing and puffing Oghren at her side. "Selene!" he took two steps forwards and pulled her into his arms, raining kisses on her cheeks. He pulled back from her but still kept her firmly within his grasp. "You are a sight for sore eyes, tesoro," he couldn't keep the emotion from his voice. It had been so long and he had still feared that something might have indeed befallen her.

Her answering smile faded into a worried expression, "Zev? What happened here?" She moved to look beyond him and her eyes fell on the courtyard filled with shroud-covered dead and her expression froze.

His arms tightened around her. "When I got here, the keep had been attacked. I thought...Maker's breath Selene...I didn't know what you had gotten yourself into!" his hands slid up from her waist to her upper arms. "Amore, no Grey Wardens survived...the dark spawn...took them or killed them all." Just as he guessed would happen Selene's knees gave out from under her and her face paled. He caught her against his chest.

"Argus? What about Watcher Argus?" she tried to steady herself and clutched the front of his leather armor.

He shook his head sadly in answer and he saw her eyes well up with tears. "No!" she said angrily. "You're lying!" she spat and tried to struggle out of his grasp. Zevran's arms were stronger than they looked and she finally settled for beating at his chest. He grimaced in pain but he took it, finally she collapsed against him sobbing. "No! Maker damn you! Maker damn you all!" she sobbed.

_'This can't be happening!'_ Selene thought desperately. _'Argus...oh Argus I am so sorry!' _Her eyes stole small glances over Zevran's shoulder as she tried to pick out which one amongst the dead he might be, but there were too many. Too many had died. She had known every single one of them, had broke bread with them, fought at their side and when they needed her the most...she hadn't been there. She felt the clear sting of failure and the shame of it cowed her. She was no hero...she no longer deserved the title. Once she had asked her mother what it was like to be put in hell by the Maker when one died. She had answered that she believed it to be the worst moments of ones life, relived over and over, with no way to change it. Selene had no doubts that she was going there, just as she had no doubt that this was one of those moments she would be destined to have replayed forever, torment for her failure.

Zevran stroked her hair as her sobs increased. "Oghren?"

"Aye?" Oghren acknowledged, looking a little uncomfortable with Selene's sobbing and the elf comforting her.

"Go down to the Dungeons and get Alistair for me. Tell him Selene is here and she is...in need of him," he finished.

Oghren nodded. "Sure thing."

Alistair came bursting out of the dungeons only moments later, he rushed to where Zevran stood still holding the fair Grey Warden. "Selene?" he said awkwardly and was surprised when she let go of Zevran and encircled his waist with her arms and buried her head in his chest.

"Alistair, they're gone. Argus...like my father...gone...all gone!" she sobbed.

His heart nearly broke at the defeated way her shoulders slumped, and the strength of her grief tore at him. "Oh, love...come on, lets get you inside," he said gently and drew her with him towards the Vigil.

Zevran watched Alistair take Selene with him into the Keep and then when they were out of sight he slipped quietly through the Dungeon door.

* * *

Alistair tightened his arm around Selene's waist as he escorted her up to her room. "I'm so sorry," she said forlornly. "I shouldn't have lost it...you should go. I'll be fine," she pulled away from him and started up the stairs alone. Alistair frowned and hurried up next to her again. He stopped her from going any further by grabbing her upper arm gently. She stopped but her eyes were cast down at the stone steps.

"Selene," he slid a hand under her chin and tilted her face upwards so that she was looking into his eyes. "I can't pretend that you don't mean...everything...absolutely _everything_ to me. But more than that, you're still my best friend. You're the only real family I have, and you need me. So here I am. I'm not going anywhere, so you might as well get used to it," he said.

Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "So why did you wait until now to tell me we were still friends? You let me think you didn't want anything to do with me," her lower lip trembled.

Alistair winced and then hung his head releasing her arm from his grasp, "I..." he ran hand through his hair. "I don't suppose telling you that I'm the stupidest man in all of Thedas would help...would it?"

"No," she replied and watched him place his back against the stone wall.

"Alright, this may sound stupid to you but...I wanted to give you a chance," he said quietly and leaned the back of his head against the cool of the stone behind him.

"I'm not sure that I understand," her tears were drying now, and she was distracted from her grief. He could have smiled if she hadn't put him on the spot.

"I didn't deserve you," his jaw clenched and he looked upwards, trying to find something else to focus on besides how beautiful she was in that moment. Even with tears and road dust streaking her face. "I thought you deserved more than a bastard like me. Much, much, more. You deserved a family that I couldn't give you and I thought...I thought eventually you would wise up and leave me for someone who could give you all the things you wanted. Add that to Arl Eamon squawking on about how I could never give you a baby and I should just let you go...well, that's it."

"Well you were right," Selene said quietly.

Alistair felt a stab of pain in his heart and winced. "I was?"

"You _are_ the stupidest Man in all of Thedas!" she growled. "Did you even bother asking me what I wanted? No, like everyone else you just think you know what I want. I only ever wanted you, Alistair. I didn't care about your blood or the crown or anything else. I just wanted to be a part of your life."

"I...didn't know that," Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose. "I wish I had before...well before I lost you, and you moved on."

Selene let loose a bitter laugh, one that startled Alistair. "You know, I'd like to believe there is such a thing as 'moving on'. But there is no such thing as love and happiness anymore, Alistair. Everything and everyone I touch turns to shite," she felt more tears stream down her face, leaving scalding bitter tracks on her cheeks. She turned to go and once more he stopped her by grasping her upper arm. "I can't do this with you, I'm sorry. Thank you for escorting me this far, but you need to let me go," she said tiredly.

"You shouldn't be alone," he said in a low voice.

"I'm always alone," she replied resignedly. She yanked on her arm again feebly. "Let me go, Alistair."

He released her arm and watched her run the rest of the way up the stairs and presumably to her chambers. "I love you," he said to her retreating form, confident that she would not have heard him.

* * *

_'I am a fool_.' Andre cursed himself for the one hundredth time that night. He had fallen in love with an icon. A woman who everyone, including him, thought infallible. A Paragon of justice and light. He found a blemish on the tiny facade and his whole perception of her cracked and fell apart, leaving this person that he had no idea existed. She was still a very wonderful person, but far removed from the woman he thought he was in love with. He wasn't sure he could even try to love the person she was. He still did not approve of magic in general, though he could see the necessity for such things...he would always question her judgment when it came to that. He could serve her, perhaps be her friend...but love? He wasn't sure he wouldn't be an ass to her every time she recruited a maleficar and he was certain that she couldn't guarantee that she wouldn't recruit one. Sooner or later she'd end up hating him for being so judgmental and he didn't want that. If anything, he hoped that eventually they could grow to be friends.

He rubbed at his eyes and then blinked up at the bottom of the top bunk. He was sharing a bunk with Cyrus. Xephi refused to be anywhere near him and he didn't blame the mage. He didn't object to Xephi, not as a person. No, he rather liked the wise assed mage. It was the Mage part he couldn't get passed.

There was a sound of horns going off from outside the Peak and Andre sat up quickly, smacking his head on the bunk. "Shite!" he swore loudly, waking up Cyrus.

"What? What's going on?" Cyrus murmured sleepily.

"Its the alarm! Get up!" he shouted and then hastily got out of bed and started slipping on his armor.

Cyrus bolted out of the bed and then followed Ser Perth's lead, donning his armor and weapons hurriedly.

"To arms! Dark spawn have invaded the Peak!" someone shouted.

"Holy Maker!" Andre felt terror grip his heart and grabbed his Greatsword.

He fled the barracks and was joined by the other recruits as they filed into the courtyard. There were perhaps fifty new Wardens and maybe a hundred Wardens, the Peak was impenetrable unless the secret passages were breached. That had never been a problem before now. Andre drew in a sharp breath as he remembered Sigrun's words at Kal'Hirol. '_They're different now, smarter._'

"Here they come!" someone shouted and Andre raised his sword. He felt them before he saw them, like crawling bugs on his skin, whispers snaked into his ears making him shudder. Then suddenly they burst forth from the underground passages in a wave of evil and mayhem. He opened his mouth and let out a battle cry others following closely behind him. "For the Grey Wardens!"

* * *

Like most dungeons, the one at the Vigil was dark and damp. Zevran would have like to believe he'd seen the last of such places when he went with Selene, Alistair and Wynne to the top of Fort Drakon. But alas, as an assassin it was a little much to hope for. At least, for the moment he was on the outside of the cell. He made his way down the spiraling staircase and found himself in front of a holding cell. In it Nathaniel sat crosslegged, his arms folded and a scowl fixed to his handsome face. The guard gave him a calculating look, which Zevran returned with a wink. The guard blushed and then recovered with a scowl.

"The King said if you came down here I wasn't to leave you alone with the prisoner," he remarked.

Zevran's eyebrows shot up, "Oh? The King is worried about me? How sweet. However you should not worry for me, my good man. I am quite capable of..." he pulled his lower lip between his even white teeth and looked the guard up and down, "handling...myself."

"Be that as it may," the guard said warily, totally missing Zevran's innuendo. "I'm not to leave you alone with the prisoner."

"Oh, fine. Have it your way...just could you maybe go over there?" he gestured to a spot away from the cell that was out of hearing distance. "I have private matters to discuss with this man and I do not want them over heard."

The guard narrowed his eyes at him, "Alright...just don't try nothing."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Zevran flashed a smile and then turned to regard his imprisoned friend.

Nathaniel looked up at him with a mixture of anger, amusement and utter bewilderment. "What do you want?"

"To ask you what you would do if I were to...facilitate your escape," Zevran folded his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side.

Nathaniel blinked at the elf in surprise. "Why would you do that?"

Zevran stepped forward and stopped just short of the bars. "Would you believe me if I said that I was doing it out of the goodness of my heart?"

Nathaniel lifted a dark eyebrow, "Not in a million years."

Zevran chuckled, "Alright, I guess that's a fair assessment. Perhaps then you will believe that I harbor a certain fascination with you and I find the idea of your neck being stretched because you wanted a few of your family's belongings...a bit of a waste."

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes, "Better but not entirely the reason."

Zevran pinched the bridge of his nose. "What do you want me to say?"

Nathaniel stepped forward himself and grabbed the bars with both hands and leaned forward so that he could speak in a low voice that only Zevran could hear. "I think that you feel responsible and you...care for me."

Zevran felt a jolt of surprise and a little anger at Nathaniel's revelation. He scowled at Nathaniel who only smiled back at him.

"You know, I can think of less noble intentions for wanting to save me, Zevran. Love is better than whatever selfishness I know you're capable of," Nathaniel pointed out.

"Love!" Zevran scoffed. "I'm the son of a whore, an assassin...what care I for such things? You know nothing of what you speak!" he growled.

"Oh? Don't I? I think that's exactly what's going on here. You think that we might have a connection and you don't want to lose me before you can figure out if we truly do," Nathaniel said triumphantly.

"Alright," Zevran huffed. "Say for a second that your foolish assessment is correct. If I were to help you get out of here, would you leave and never come back?"

Nathaniel smiled gently at the elf and shook his head, "I...can't promise you that I won't try to come back and recover some of my family's things. And if the Commander gets in my way..." he trailed off with anger in his eyes but their intent clear.

Zevran shook his head, "Well then, as much as it pains me to say this...I cannot help you."

"I did not ask you to," he sighed. "But know that as much as I feigned disinterest...I think it might have worked. I would have at least been willing to try."

Zevran glared at the young man. "We'll never know now...will we?" he said angrily.

"You better go," Nathaniel said quietly and turned his back on the elf.

Zevran stared at Nathaniel's back for a moment and then turned on his heel and stormed out of the dungeon. Once outside he started running through his options. No matter what escape scenario he ran through, he could not see it ending well for anyone. Finally he settled on one choice. One that required that he plead his case to Selene. One that might doom Nathaniel to serve the cause his Father so vehemently opposed. One he wasn't sure that the young man would go through with. He was going to have to convince Selene to conscript Nathaniel.

* * *

A/N: I hope that I wrote Selene's reaction to the death of all the Grey Wardens (including Argus) at the Vigil realistically. I think I have a tendency to be a little off with reactions. =(

**Please forgive me if any of Zev's Italian is off. I really don't speak it...at all. So I've been forced to look up the term of endearments. Thank you as always to Melismo and my loyal readers. I've really enjoyed the reviews, and getting favorites on the story, even though it is not yet finished, is a great honor.**


	17. Chapter 17

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bioncafemme**

**Chapter 17:**

* * *

"Its been two days!" Alistair paced back and forth at the head of the throne room. Once in a while he would cast a irritated glance at Zevran who lounged upon the throne with one leg throne over the side.

"Alistair, she will come out when she is ready," Zevran assured him.

"You say that, but I know you don't believe it! You don't know when she'll be coming out anymore than I do!" Alistair snapped at him. "So don't patronize me."

"Then stop acting like a spoilt child. Go up there and do something about it!" Zevran snapped back.

"Alright, simmer down ladies!" Oghren grunted and then took a swig from a flask he'd had tied to his belt. "Seems like one of you could put your big girl small clothes on and drag your sorry carcasses up there," he pointed out.

"Why don't you do it, my smelly Dwarven friend?" Zevran purred.

"Cause I don't do sympathy. Best I could do is get her hammered and I'm not sure she's in the right frame of mind to handle that," Oghren glared at the elf. "Once you start drinking to drown the memories, it's mighty hard to stop, trust me...I know all about that."

Alistair rubbed his palms over his face and realized that he hadn't shaved in he didn't know how long. He'd gotten about two weeks worth of beard growth and hadn't slept much since Selene had run from him the day of her arrival. "Andraste's ass...alright. I'll go! At the very least I'll bring her up some food. I don't think she's even eaten."

"Heh, going up to tangle with the she-beast, eh? Good on ya!" Oghren raised his flask and toasted Alistair.

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better," Alistair grumbled and then set off towards the kitchen.

* * *

About an hour later found him outside Selene's door, tray laden with bread, cheese and grapes in hand.

He took a deep breath and raised his knuckles to the door, delivering two short raps. He waited... and received no answer. "Selene?" he called and rapped twice more. Nothing. He pressed his ear to the door and listened. There was no sound from within the room, nothing stirred. He frowned and reached down and lifted the latch. It wasn't locked, pushing the door open he stepped into the darkness of her room. The heavy dark drapes were drawn and he stumbled over something, nearly losing his tray. He recovered quickly however and found a clear spot on her bureau to place the tray. That done he fumbled his way to the window and threw open the curtains. Light poured in and illuminated the room.

He turned and gasped. It had been miraculous, especially for a graceless oaf like him, that he had not tripped on anything else. There was not a bit of furniture not upended, clothes and armor and bits and pieces of things were strewn everywhere. He noticed he managed to avoid the glass that had been shattered somewhere near the vicinity of the door. Possibly as she had thrown a vase or something at it.

Amidst it all, lying in a pool of what he assumed to be her own vomit, was Selene. She was curled up on her side, face and hands pressed to the cool stone as only one who has drunk way too much can truly appreciate. He grimaced, at least her hair was too short to be covered in her sick. He crossed the room to where she lay and bent down, checking the pulse in her neck and sighed with relief. She hadn't drunk herself to death, at least. Though by the look of it, she'd at least given it a hell of a good try.

"Maker's breath, its a good thing that I love you...do you know that?" he sighed in exasperation and left the room, returning with several maids carrying buckets of hot and cold water to her bath. When the maids were gone he rolled her over and made a face. "Sweet Andraste! You smell terrible!" he covered his nose with his forearm and coughed. Finally deciding he needed to get her to the bath quickly he took a deep breath and held it, then lifted her up by the armpits and dragged her backwards until he got her into the bathroom.

Once there, he started peeling off her clothes. He had intended not to remove her small clothes but...she had been passed out long enough that they were soiled as well. He had felt badly for all that she had went through before but now... "You didn't need to do this, you know," he chastised her.

He finally got her cleaned up a bit with a cloth and then he looked from her to the bath and then back again. How was he going to do this? He mulled it over a bit and then finally an idea came that had him blushing violently. He looked down at her again, her body stripped of its clothes and her breathing indicating that she was far from waking. He huffed. "Templar discipline...alright. I can do this," he reassured himself and then removed his own clothing leaving on his small clothes.

That done he lifted her again and placed her in the water, carefully avoiding submerging her head, then he got in behind her. He took several deep breaths, "Knight Commander Gregoir running naked through the tower, Loghain in a dress, Morrigan as a spider...ah that did it," he sighed in relief as his reaction to seeing Selene's body and feeling her skin against his was lessened. That and she still had vomit on her cheek. He shook his head and started washing her, carefully avoiding parts he probably shouldn't even been thinking about, _'Not that I haven't been thinking about it almost every night.'_

"Wow, that was... so not helpful," he squeezed his eyes shut and repeated the Chant of Light until he was certain her skin was clean. Then washed her hair out and after rinsing it one last time, he pulled stopper and let the water drain before lifting her out so that he wouldn't get water all over the floor and risk slipping with her in his arms.

He carried her bridal style over to her bed and laid her down, then pulled the covers up over her, placing a kiss on her forehead before going back to the bathroom to retrieve his clothes.

* * *

Selene awoke with a hangover to end all hangovers. She opened her eyes and a vicious stab of pain lanced through her skull just behind her eyes. She squinted and glared at the window, someone had opened the drapes. She scowled and then sat up, her hands immediately clutching at the sides of her head to prevent it from falling off. "Ow!" she whimpered. She felt a faint breeze over her bare chest and her eyes flew open and looked down at herself. "What-?" her self questioning was interrupted by an embarrassed cough from the direction of her bathroom door. She hurriedly covered herself and fixed her gaze on a half-dressed Alistair. "What in the Maker's name are you doing in my room! And why am I naked?" she hissed. "And why are you... inappropriately dressed!" she hastily tore her eyes away from his delectable-looking bare torso.

"Uh...well...you see, funny thing happened...uh...ha..." as he fumbled for an explanation he watched her eyes widen and he held out his hand as if to stop her thoughts with it. "No, no, no...its not what you think...just...listen to me before you go on a rampage...please?" he pleaded.

Selene's eyebrow lifted and she took in his appearance. Her eyes traveled down to where his hands held his shirt and noticed he had a pair of wet looking men's small clothes with it. His hair was also wet and she reached up and felt her hair, it was just as wet. "Alistair, what is going on!"

"Look," he growled. "I was worried about you...we all were! I came up here and you were passed out in your own vomit, which by the way I haven't yet gotten a chance to have cleaned up. I just couldn't think of a way to get you clean without...bathing you. And before you tell me I could have cleaned you up with a cloth let me just point out that you've been passed out a very _long_ time. I'm surprised you're even still alive!" his voice had risen more than he had intended and he threw his shirt and small clothes down on a chair and ran a hand through his hair and started pacing in front of the bathroom door.

"Oh," she said quietly.

"Oh?" he scoffed. "Woman nearly kills herself drinking, worries me half to death, I clean her up and prevent her from drowning in a pool of her own sick and all she's got to say to me is 'oh'! Not so much as a how-do-you do, or '_Thank you Alistair for saving me from my charming attempts to off myself by drowning in my own throw up!_'," he said the last in a high-pitched voice she assumed meant that he was mocking her. "You're welcome by the way!"

Selene drew her knees up to her chest and laid her head down on them. "My head feels like the Anvil of the Void and there's a great big Golem pounding on it."

After a long moment of silence Alistair grabbed up his shirt, which had fallen in his tirade, "I'll send some maids to clean up the mess. I brought you some food, you should eat some. It will help." He headed towards the door.

"Alistair?" Selene called.

He stopped just before leaving her room and turned to look at her over his shoulder, "Yes, love?"

"Thank you," she said quietly.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "I'll come back later...then we can talk."

"I'd like that," she replied.

He nodded in response and then left. She stared at the door for a long time, until the maids came and started setting her room to rights. She laid back and looked up at the ceiling, picturing Alistair standing in her doorway, shirtless and looking shy. Even after having been intimate with her hundreds of times before, he still blushed. She had forgotten how adorable and alluring that was.

"He's coming back later!" she exclaimed suddenly and hopped out of bed, ignoring the maids who simply looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. She threw open the doors of her wardrobe and started rummaging through it. She found the signature Grey Warden casual attire, black leathers and white shirt and laid them out before pulling on a fresh pair of small clothes. Her head screamed at her and she felt a little dizzy from the lack of food for the last two days, but it was time to stop wallowing. He'd shown her that.

* * *

Zevran was still lounging on the throne, only now he and Oghren had started in on some wine, when Alistair again reappeared. He had on different clothes and his face was a little red, though whether from embarrassment or anger he couldn't tell. When his Majesty started pacing once again, Zevran assumed the latter.

"Alistair," he said, stopping the young King in his tracks. "Is she alright?"

"I don't know, she's alive, anyway," Alistair pinched the bridge of his nose. "At least Oghren needn't have worried about getting her pissed, she'd already drank herself into a stupor. Maker's breath, Zevran. I've never seen her like this!" he rubbed his chin.

"In her defense, she had a blight to stop right after her parents died. There's no blight to occupy her now," Zevran pointed out.

Alistair shrugged. "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am," Zevran chuckled. "Is she coming down?"

"Not yet, she's cleaned up at least and I left her some food. I told her that I would be by later," the King said.

"Ah, good. Perhaps you could ask her if it would be alright for me to visit with her for a time later as well? I find that I have some matters that acquire her attention," Zevran took a sip of his wine.

Alistair squashed down the feeling of jealousy, "What kind of matters?"

"Oh, nothing that should concern you. And do not worry, I do not intend on seducing her," Zevran grinned. "Not today at any rate."

"Oh, well...good," Alistair smiled back. "Less competition for me then."

"Alistair," Zevran warned. "Not only would I kill you, should you hurt her again, but does she not have a lover now?"

Alistair shrugged. "I am not going to actively come between them Zev. I won't do that to her. But I am not going to just hide my feelings. Besides, I don't think he's in the picture anymore."

Zevran's eyebrow raised. "Oh? What makes you say that, precisely?"

"When I last saw the two of them they were inseparable. Then last night she gave me a speech about there being no such things as love or happiness. I think they might have parted ways," Alistair said thoughtfully.

"Aye, she said as much when we were at that Tavern in Amaranthine. Sodding fool gave her a whole bunch of nug dung about blood-magic. That girl has rotten luck with men," Oghren piped up between swigs.

"Blood-magic?" Alistair blinked.

"Aye, ol' Perthikins learned about the joining ritual and how that old geezer Avernus used blood-magic to alter that tainted blood he drank. The pansy freaked out about it and she left. Can't say as I blame her, nothing worse than having some duster tellin' you what you can and can't do. Anyone worth his stone knows not go all righteous and demanding on that woman," Oghren belched.

"Of all the ungrateful!" Alistair sputtered angrily. "He has no right to judge her like that...especially since she saved his damned life!"

"The former Templar condoning blood-magic?" Zevran teased.

"No, more like Alistair the Grey Warden taking offense when some fool who doesn't know the first thing about being a Grey Warden passes judgment on the Warden Commander, the only Grey Warden to defeat a blight since Garahel. Maker's breath! She's the only one that has ever survived taking the head off the Archdemon! He should bow down and kiss that woman's feet for the rest of her life for what she's been through!" Alistair growled angrily.

"Gratitude and Hero worship are not the same as love, Alistair," Zevran interjected.

"You don't think he even loves her?" Alistair thought back to the familiar way that bastard's hand had snaked around Selene's waist when Alistair had come to visit her at Soldier's Peak and growled. "He certainly had me fooled."

"Love, like fate, is a tricky whore, my friend. Here one day and gone the next. Better to love incrementally and often, I think. True love is for fairytales," Zevran smirked. "Give me long legs and a fine bosom, I shall show you love!"

"Hah! For once you pole dancin' elven freak, we agree on somethin'!" Oghren barked out a laugh.

* * *

Andre opened his eyes, finding them heavy lidded and feeling grainy. The room encompassing his vision held a figure of a man...or not a man. A creature much like dark spawn but at once not like any other dark spawn that he had ever seen. He tried to move but found that he was restrained.

"So you are Ser Perth of the Grey Wardens?" the creatures voice was smooth and yet held a lisp. Andre narrowed his eyes and the details of the creatures face came into focus briefly. The mouth was pierced with a small gold ring at the corner, as his eyes traveled up he was startled to find that underneath the rediculous hat, the creatures eyes were covered, and yet it seemed to be staring straight at him. The thought unnerved him.

"Do not be frightened," the creature said soothingly. "Your injuries have been tended to. I apologize for what I must do. I do not wish to be your enemy. But now is not the time for this. Rest," came the hushed command and Ser Perth was helpless against the flush of sleep into his system. He fell back into unconsciousness.

When next he awoke he awoke on a cold stone floor. Above him were the faces of Xephi, Cyrus and Niara. "What? Where?" he sat up slowly and looked around. They were in a cell and they had been stripped of their weapons and armor.

"Well, seems like you're just as hard to kill as Selene is," Niara observed.

"Pity. Ow!" he glared at Cyrus who had just cuffed him on the back of the head.

"We're in a fine enough mess without you're mouth getting us into trouble," Cyrus pointed out.

"Sorry if his hatred of my kind chafes my delicate magely sensibilities, oh silent and broody one!" Xephi blew a rasberry at the crossbowman and stalked off to lean up against the cell bars.

"Thanks," Andre replied to Cyrus.

"I don't want your _Thanks_," Cyrus spat. "I don't really like you. I tolerate you. You offend me, just as much as you offend him. You're a Warden, however. So as such, you are worthy of my respect as my brother. But don't think for one minute that I respect you as a man. Anybody deserving of the right to be called a man, doesn't do the woman he loves like you did."

"And what exactly is it that you think that I have done?" Andre asked in a weary tone.

"Propped her up like false idol? Played let's make-believe you love this woman with every fiber of your being only to crush her like a slug under your heel? Stabbed her through the heart with the poisoned dagger of religious zeal and hypocrisy? Blimey, I don't know Ser Knight...pick one!" Cyrus growled.

"Alright!" snapped Niara. "We need to figure out a way to get out of here that doesn't involve a pissing contest."

"Niara's right," Xephi interjected. "Besides, it wouldn't be a fair contest anyway, mine's bigger!"

Both Niara and Cyrus groaned. Andre simply pinched the bridge of his nose. "I promise the three of you...I will apologize to her, as soon as we get out of this mess."

"Are you just saying that 'cause we could die down here and you need us? Or do you really mean that?" Xephi narrowed his eyes at the Knight.

"Everything that I said to her, I meant at the time. It's...hard for me to reconcile what I thought I knew of her...from what I now know of her. Things...are not what I had first assumed them to be," Ser Perth conceded.

Xephi snorted in derision and Cyrus glared at the mage. "Xeph," he chided.

"Alright! Keep your girdle on," Xephi turned to Ser Perth. "I still don't like you. But I guess I can refrain from turning you into a toad."

Ser Perth inclined his head. "My thanks."

"Great, now that that's out of the way," Niara licked her lips and looked at both Xephi and Cyrus nervously and then back at Ser Perth. "Are you feeling alright?" she asked.

Ser Perth nodded. "I am whole. Why?"

"They...did something to you. We don't know what, but we were in holding cells in that _thing's_ laboratory while he was doing it. He took some of your blood then put something back in. I'm not sure what," she said worriedly.

"I can't get the sickness because of the joining, right?" Ser Perth asked.

Niara and Cyrus nodded solemnly.

"Well then we'll worry about it when I do start feeling poorly. For now, I feel fine, great in fact. I did wake briefly before, he claimed to have tended my injuries. I do not believe his intention is our eradication. At least, not immediately. He must have a bigger plan," Andre rubbed his chin.

"He's called the Architect," Niara supplied. "There was a ghoul, she was like him. She talked. She called him the Architect."

"Did you hear or see anything else?" Ser Perth asked them.

"He's draining the bodies of the Grey Warden dead of blood, and storing it," Cyrus offered.

Even Niara and Xephi turned to regard the normally quiet bowman with horror. "Why on Thedas would he want to do such a thing?" Andre asked.

"I don't know. I was the one who woke up first, and that's what I saw," he shrugged.

"Alright, no matter what happens...one of us has to make it out alive to get this information to the Commander. We might as well choose that person now," Andre pointed out. "We'll all try and get out naturally, but...with the amount of dark spawn and Maker knows what else...one person will have a better chance. We need to all band together and get that person out."

Xephi and Cyrus looked at each other and said, "Niara!" simultaneously.

"No!" she hissed.

Ser Perth shook his head. "It makes the most sense, Niara. The only one better than you at hand-to-hand combat and blades is Selene. And if she were here I would say we might have a chance of getting us _all_ out of here, but without her...its going to have to be you. We'll keep them off you while you escape," his expression was unmovable, as were the others.

Niara huffed, "Fine! But no heroics! Stay alive as long as you can and I'll try and get help."

None of them pointed out that it might be too late for that by the time she did make it to the Commander. But the three recognized that its what she needed to believe, so they let her.

"Alright," said Xephi. "First we need to get out of this cell."

"I can help with that," came a feminine voice.

Their heads snapped to where the voice came from and found a petite elven girl with ash blonde hair and an unnaturally pale complexion. Traces of the taint marred her skin and her silvered eyes spoke volumes to who she might be.

"Serrani?" came Niara's startled response.

"I have the key," she slipped it into the lock and turned it, simultaneously pulling the cell door open. "You need to get out of here before they come back. Your things are somewhere in the Emissaries' room," she said quietly.

"Won't he be angry? You could come with us," Niara offered.

Serranni shook her head. "Its too late for me," she said as they filed out of the cell. Her silvery eyes traveled up to capture the blue eyes of Ser Perth just as he passed her. "As it is for you," she said too low for the others to hear.

Andre stared at her in horror until Niara pulled him away from Serrani and towards another door that led into the silverite mine beyond. The elven woman's words echoing in his ears, _'As it is for you.'_

* * *

**A/N: Oh come on...you **_**had**_ **to see that coming!**

**Thank you to my friend Melismo for awesome editing. I hope that this chapter finds you well and that you Andre fans don't want to beat me. Don't worry, he won't die. I can at least promise you that. =)**


	18. Chapter 18

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 18:**

* * *

There is a darkness beyond that which lurks in the shadows. Darkness that moves into the long forgotten recesses of ones soul. Ser Perth has felt along the edges of such darkness before and found it cold and unforgiving. He had prayed to the Maker above that he would never have to face such darkness again. But as he swung his Great Sword in wide arcs, beating back the enemy at every turn, there was a fire beneath his skin that reminded him of the joining. It sung through his veins and throbbed behind his eyes. That day he found a name for the darkness as his breath worked painfully in and out of his lungs and his heart slammed painfully against his ribcage. And that name was despair.

_Serranni shook her head. "Its too late for me," she said as they filed out of the cell. Her silvery eyes traveled up to capture the blue eyes of Ser Perth just as he passed her, "As it is for you."_

Ser Perth howled in rage as he carved a swath of destruction on their way through the mines. Heedless of Niara's or Cyrus's seniority, he barked out orders and kept himself between Niara and the greater concentrations of dark spawn. With him leading their team they cut through the creatures with their dark spawn weapons, scavenged from the bodies of their fallen foes. Xephi cast a healing spell on the group and Ser Perth felt the tendrils of the Mages healing magic infuse him. He glared at the Mage who simply rolled his eyes skyward.

Soon they came upon ghouls that wore their gear and brandished their weapons. Despite this they were no match for the four. Armor back and their own weapons finally back in their hands, even Ser Perth started to believe that they might actually make it out alive.

They traded with the Qunari, Armaas. Niara seemingly determined to get him to realize the folly of trading for supplies with the dark spawn, finally pressed upon him that the Qun would never condone him trading with such evil. To which the large man replied, "The Qun is a lie!"

Cyrus grabbed the angry Niara and dragged her bodily into the next room, their companions close behind. In that room they were confronted by their captor.

The Architect stood with two women, a dwarf and the elven woman that had let them free. The Architect turned to Seranni and she gave him a nod that after some moments, he returned. Ser Perth narrowed his eyes at the scene. What was going on here? What game was the elven maiden playing?

A roar from above pulled his attention away from the trio. "Dragons!" shouted Xephi.

"Maker!" Andre exclaimed.

* * *

Selene had been at first both excited and apprehensive about Alistair returning. Until she opened her window and gazed down into the courtyard below. The feelings of excitement fled with the realization that the bodies were gone. They must have been burnt while she lost herself in the spirits she'd used to drown out the world. And with them had gone Argus. Now the only family she had left resided in Highever. _Although..._

_"Selene," he slid a hand under her chin and tilted her face upwards so that she was looking into his eyes. "I can't pretend that you don't mean...everything...absolutely everything to me. But more than that, you're still my best friend. You're the only real family I have, and you need me. So here I am. I'm not going anywhere, so you might as well get used to it," he said._

He'd been so far true to his word. He'd been there for her. Even though she'd done her best to crawl into a bottle and die. Many would have just left her to it. Looking down into the empty courtyard she almost wished he had. What did she really have to be sober for? The blight was over, she was not good enough for Ser Perth, Alistair might think he wanted her back now but once he was faced with Eamon's distaste for her...she had her friendships, of course. But how long before they too ended up like Argus? How many lives must she inadvertently ruin before the rest of Ferelden finally let her crawl off into the the Deep Roads to die?

"Still feeling sorry for yourself?" came a familiar, smooth, teasing, masculine voice.

Startled Selene looked up from her perch to find the King leaning against the door frame. He was dressed in Grey Warden casual dress as well. She wondered where he had found the outfit. Her eyes were drawn of their own accord up and down his frame. He looked...wonderful. "Those look nice on you," she commented and then tore her eyes away from him and fixed them again on the courtyard.

"Oh? These old things?" he chuckled. "I admit their not as snappy as Templar's tunics, but...I heard that my Commander had commissioned these from Denerim, so I asked the tailor to make me some too. Apparently she forgot to order me some..." he teased. After some silence he cleared his throat. "Thank you. I never did know how to take compliments well, did I?"

She smiled sadly and shook her head, still not looking at him. "No."

He approached the window and took position on the opposite side of it, eyes gazing at her face intently.

She was perched on the sill, which was wide enough for her to sit comfortably without fear of falling. The day was sunny and surprisingly warm for Ferelden. He took in the sight of her, how her tan skin contrasted with the dark chestnut of her hair, how her hazel eyes picked up flecks of gold from the sun.

"I have something you might want," he slipped his hand into his pocket and took out a pendant and then held it out to her.

She looked at it blankly for a moment and then took it from him. "This is?"

Alistair nodded. "Yes, its his oath. I took it off his body before we cremated him," he looked uncomfortable for a moment and then he rubbed the back of his neck. "I...tried to hold off. I'd hoped you would have been out sooner. But we couldn't wait any longer-," he tried to explain but she held up her hand stemming his rush of words.

"I understand. Thank you. Very much. You did what I could not," she said. She gazed at the pendant in her hand for a moment and then she blinked rapidly and looked away.

"You don't have to do that. I've seen you cry before, you know," Alistair reached out and took her hand and bent forward so that he could see her face. Small tear tracks had made their paths down her smooth cheeks. He pulled her from her sitting position and into his arms. It seemed to be all the permission she needed because she let the tears come. For his part Alistair simply held her, once and awhile he would plant a kiss into her hair. "Its ok," he soothed. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." And for some reason that he could not fathom, she seemed to cry harder. Which made him a little angry. Not at her, never at her. No he was upset with himself. He should never have left her. Perhaps she would not be quite so broken now.

"You shouldn't say things you don't mean," she sniffled against him.

"You know, until this very moment...I didn't realize how very much I hurt you," he tightened his arms around her. "I regret that. Deeply. I put both of us through so much. I never lied to you when we were together. I never wanted to be without you, I hadn't intended to," he paused. "Here I go with the excuses again. I must sound really stupid to you."

"I always hated it when you said that," she wiped the tears from her face.

"Why? It's true. Morrigan always went on about how stupid I was. And I can't say that I totally disagree with that assessment. Even if she was an utter bitch," he grumbled. "Leaving you was the stupidest thing I've ever done. And I've done a lot of stupid things."

"Everyone makes mistakes Alistair," she shrugged.

"Maybe," he conceded. "You don't seem to make many."

She laughed at that. "Oh I don't know about that. I certainly made an impression on you earlier."

He chuckled. "At least now I know who to bet on should you and Oghren ever get into a drinking contest."

Selene pulled back from him and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and cleaned up her face.

"Thank you for letting me cry on you."

"It was an honor," he took her hand and kissed it. "So, I'm here. Have any interesting Grey Wardening to do? We could do some quests together. Just like old times, what do you say?" the hopeful look on his face had her grinning from ear to ear.

"Are you certain you can afford to take time away?" she asked worriedly.

He nodded. "Eamon is busy interviewing for his replacement and I won't hold court for another three weeks while he does that."

"Alistair!" her eyes widened. "You're letting him pick his own replacement?"

"No, not really. He thinks he is. But once I get back I thought...well I thought that maybe I might...give the post to you. Or maybe have you help me pick out someone trustworthy?" he winced because he thought he sounded a bit whiney.

She bit her lower lip in that way that always made him itch to kiss her. "You know I believe I do have some interesting Grey Wardening after all."

"Oh?" his eyes lit up.

"Have you ever heard of the town of Black Marsh?" she asked.

"Something of a local ghost town, isn't it?" he replied.

"I don't know," she admitted. "You seem to know more about it than I do. One of the Orlesian Wardens went there to investigate dark spawn sightings. Only that was weeks ago and no one has heard from him since. Oghren and I were going to check it out."

"Sounds like fun!" he said cheerfully. "Zevran wants to speak with you later tonight, if you're up to it."

She nodded. "Tell him that I would like that."

"I will," he smiled and then the smile turned into a contemplative scowl.

She laughed at the sight. "Why are you making that face?"

"I was thinking about what you said the other night," Alistair replied.

"Oh?" her voice turned wary.

"What happened between you and Ser Perth?" he still had hold of her hand and for a brief moment her fingers tightened around his.

"I'm not really sure," she huffed. "Everything seemed to be going well, and then...well I didn't think that Avernus would be such a sore spot for him."

"Oghren filled me in a little. I could have told you that he had an issue with magic before now, it just didn't occur to me, I'm sorry," he apologized.

She shrugged. "I don't know that I would have believed you, anyway. Given the way we last parted company," she admitted.

He nodded in understanding and then asked the question he'd been dying to know the answer to, "So, is it over between you?"

"I suppose it is," she looked up into his eyes. "Alistair, I don't think its a good idea for this conversation to stay its course."

"No?" he grinned. "And just where do you think this conversation is going, My Lady?"

Selene narrowed her eyes at him. "You know what I mean."

"Not sure I do," he teased. "The last time we had a conversation that sounded like this, you told me that you liked to lick lamp posts. Or have you so easily forgotten?" his grin spread from ear to ear as her face reddened.

"_You_ are a horrible man!" she jabbed a finger into his chest accusingly.

"You're right," he nodded unrepentantly and rubbed the spot where she'd poked him. "I am a bad..bad..man. I should be punished," he chuckled. "I could do with a little beating, don't you think?" his eyes twinkled with mirth.

She lifted an eyebrow and then grinned mischievously. "Alright, Sire. You shall have your beating. Meet me down in the courtyard in ten minutes. We're going to spar, you and I," she jumped down from the windowsill enthusiastically and went over to her armor stand where her plate armor hung.

"Wait! No, no, no...that's not what I meant!" he tried to backtrack but the smile on her face indicated that it was long past time for changing her mind. A sudden idea struck him and he again smiled like the cat that ate the pigeon. "Alright, but I think we should have a little wager, just to make it more interesting."

She stopped buckling her armor and looked at him quizzically over his shoulder. "What kind of wager?"

"If _you_ win, I have to grant you one wish," he said.

"That sounds fair," she agreed. "And if you win?"

"You'll have to grant me one, of course," he said innocently. Which Alistair did really well, whether or not he was innocent.

He could see her mulling it over. He could ask any number of things from her, but ultimately she trusted him not to abuse her too badly. And really, she was confident that she could beat him in a fair fight. What she didn't realize was that Alistair did not plan on playing fair.

"Alright, we have a deal then," she laughed as he let out a 'whoop' of triumph and bounded out the door, presumably to collect his armor.

* * *

Fergus awoke in chambers not his own, for perhaps the sixth morning in a row. Morning light streamed through the tall windows in her room. He had boarded her on the east side of the Family wing as she said she loved to watch the sunrise. Fergus himself had moved into his parents suit, his old rooms held too many memories. He turned his head to look down at the redhead in his arms and found her awake and gazing at his face intently. "Hello," he smiled fondly. "Have you been awake long?"

She shrugged a creamy shoulder and smiled. "A little while, yes. I was watching you sleep."

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, "Sounds like fun."

"It was," she agreed. "You are so sweet when you sleep."

Fergus lifted an eyebrow at her incredulously. "I've heard many a description of my character my lady, sweet is not one of them."

She giggled. "But you are. You're eyelids flutter like little butterflies, I want to catch them and put them in a jar."

His eyebrows knitted together. "You're teasing...aren't you?"

"Maybe," she teased. She snuggled down into the crook of his arm and ghosted her fingers through the hair on his chest, giggling at the rumble of contentment the act elicited from her fiance. "Do we have to leave the bed today? I find you very comfortable and warm," she hugged him.

"And here I feared that I would have trouble getting you adjusted to a life of Ladyship and leisurely pursuits," he chuckled.

"Well, now you know better, don't you?" she grinned. "I was raised by a very fine Orlesian Noblewoman. Lady Cecile. She made sure that I was raised to appreciate the finer things in life. Good food, wine, fine things and the company of a handsome man."

He rolled her over on her back abruptly and swallowed the charming squeak of surprise with a slow lingering kiss. "Are you adverse to a little appreciation right now?" he indicated his meaning with a roll of his hips over hers eliciting a gasp from her full lips.

"I would like that," she smiled devilishly.

* * *

Alistair bounded into the suite of rooms he was given as a royal guest. He gathered up his armor and started to slip into it, all the while he thought over his plan. By the time he was fully armored and armed his boyish excitement had turned into something much less tame. A predatory smile spread over his ruggedly handsome face and he stalked out of his room and out to the courtyard. To his surprise, Selene was already there.

"Its about time you made it," she drew her weapons and took a defensive stance. "I was about to send Zevran up to get you."

"Oh, tesoro...Alistair doesn't want me to help him with his armor...it would take much longer, do you not think?" Zevran called out from where he was having a discussion with Master Wade near the smithy.

"Couldn't come face me on your own, eh?" Alistair shot back and retrieved his sword and Duncan's shield from his back.

He took a moment to appreciate the nostalgic smile that passed over his beloved's face at the sight of their mentor's shield before he found himself raising it to ward of her sudden blows. He shoved her back with it and used the opportunity to lash out with his own sword.

He grunted as she brought a heavy plate boot down on his thigh, he knelt and brought his shield up and his sword pummel out delivering a hard blow to her exposed belly. He heard her breath whoosh out and used the moments she was stunned to knock one of her blades out of her hands. She sucked in air with a growl and fell back, one sword raised as he advanced on her.

"Say it!" he grinned, knowing she would never say 'I yield'.

She scowled at him. "No."

He chuckled. She was always so stubborn. Which is why she often won their duels. But not today. He kicked her blade far out of reach and moved in, knees bent slightly, shield up...waiting for her to charge. Usually he would get impatient at this point and charge her...that's where she always got him. But it wasn't about winning the duel today. It was about getting close...and get close he would.

"I'm surprised," Selene prodded. "You aren't rushing me as usual."

"That's because I don't want to rush you, love. I want you to come to me, in your own time," he replied honestly.

Selene's circling steps faltered and he cheered inwardly, happy that his words affected her.

"And what if I never come to you, what then? We will be doing this dance forever if one of us does not make a move," neither of them were speaking about the duel any longer. Both of them knew it, but neither of them would say it out loud.

"Some things are worth waiting forever for," Alistair retorted.

"And some things seem worthwhile when in actuality they aren't what you really want," Selene's voice sounded as if it trembled for a moment.

"Luckily for me, I have already had this particular thing before, so I know what I am getting into," he chuckled. "I know exactly what I want."

"Do you?" she stopped circling and eyed him suspiciously.

Alistair stood still for a moment, locking eyes with her. "Oh, yes. Absolutely."

Her sword lowered slightly. "Alistair, what are we talking about exactly?"

He straightened and threw his shield to the side. He watched her eyes follow the shield downwards as it landed in the dirt. He held onto his sword, however, and he approached her slowly, sword held out to the side. She raised hers defensively. He made no move to attack her, simply kept his eyes trained on hers. "Well, I don't really know what you believe we were talking about," two more steps. "But I was actually talking about us."

"Us?" she replied with her eyes narrowed. "Well let me save you the trouble, majesty. There isn't an 'us'. I thought we talked about this already."

"Oh, you talked. A great deal. I know exactly how you feel. And I thought that you knew how I felt," Alistair said as he took two more steps.

"That's close enough, Alistair," she said nervously, though she didn't make any moves to retreat.

"I think not," he took another step and as he predicted her sword lashed out, he raised his and in a move he'd watched Sten perform with his two-handed monstrosity 'Asala' many times, he slid her blade along hers and twisted and pulled, catching her blade and tossing it away. He then plunged his own sword in the dirt and pulled her roughly against him, his lips came down upon hers, her gasp of surprise allowed him access to the cavern of her mouth and his tongue swept forth in response. He poured his heart into that kiss, one of his hands stealing upwards to cup her cheek. When he finally pulled back from her they were both breathless. "Here, my lady. This right here, is close enough. And yet I would get closer still, if you would let me," he leaned his forehead against hers.

"Alistair," she choked out. "I...why?"

"Because I love you, silly woman," he chuckled and kissed her tenderly one more time before releasing her. He took two steps backwards and picked up his sword and then his shield. "I won, by the way," he grinned.

Selene sputtered, "You cheated!"

"I did, didn't I?" he laughingly agreed. "But I still won...after dinner, I'll be in my room. If you join me there, you can grant my wish then. I'll leave it up to you whether or not you show up," he said, knowing that he was risking a lot by leaving it up to her. But if one of them didn't make a move, they'd never be together. He couldn't have that, not when she was so close. He turned on his heel and headed back to the Keep with the intention of changing for dinner, which was rapidly approaching.

Selene watched him go with a shocked expression. A chuckle from the direction of the smithy had her whirling around to face that direction.

"You know...I often wondered what seduction ala Alistair would look like," Zevran said thoughtfully. "It was quite...exciting, no?"

Selene cast a look over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the King in his golden armor entering the Keep. "Maker, yes!" her eyes widened and she turned her attention back to Zev and scowled, "I mean no! No, absolutely not!" she growled.

Zevran clucked his tongue, "You were always such a terrible liar," he teased. "By the way, my dear," he started before she could make an angry retort. "I have a favor to ask you, if I could have a moment of your time?"

"Does it involve something dirty?" She lifted an eyebrow.

"Not at all," he chuckled. "Of course I never make any presumptions where your concerned, I still remember your little expedition with Alistair and Isabella. She still talks bout you to this very day, you know," he laughed and helped her pick up her gear.

Selene snorted as she took her blades from him and sheathed them, "Well I hadn't really expected to survive the blight, so it seemed like a good way to have fun."

"Without a doubt, tesoro. Actually, while I wouldn't be opposed to a little fun of that nature, I don't believe you will be in the mood for that," he sighed.

Selene lifted an eyebrow, "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Probably not," he looked her over thoughtfully. "Why don't you follow me, and I will show you the subject that I need to discuss with you?"

"Alright...fine," she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'm really going to regret this, I just know it."

* * *

**A/N: Wow. I don't know about you, but I'm really anxious to see how Selene reacts to Nathaniel Howe in her dungeon. What do you think of Al's moves? I think he's gotten better at romancing the ladies, no? Thanks to Melismo for being a fabulous Beta as usual. And thank you to my all my fine readers. **

**Even though I expect this fic to go on for at least a few more chapters. I already have ideas for the next Fiction. Would you rather read an Aedan Cousland/Morrigan fic, or an Awakenings fic with Alistair and the Orlesian Warden-Commander? Let me know your thoughts. ttfn-Bionca**


	19. Chapter 19

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 19:**

* * *

The battle with the Dragons seemed to go on forever. Ser Perth felt the fatigue catch up to him and realized that he was using health poultices and stamina draughts at an alarming rate. There was one dragon left and both Cyrus and Xephi had fallen. Niara had started lagging as well. He watched as she backed away from the beast struggling to keep her weapons up, but her arms were trembling badly. Any blow she landed would like feel like a tickle, rather than do any actual damage. He summoned up the last of his strength and ran at the beast full speed, when he neared it he launched himself into the air landing on its back.

Niara watched this happen with an expression of shock and fear. "Get out of here!" he shouted at her as he struggled to strike at the serpentine neck, which stubbornly refused to stay still long enough for him to get in a blow.

Niara shut her gaping mouth hastily and ran for the exit, she slammed the doors open and cast one final pleading look at the Knight.

"Go!" he bellowed before slicing through one of the monster's wings.

For a horrifying moment it seemed that she would stay there and watch him get ripped apart. But then she bolted for the door, disappearing into the corridor beyond and what Andre hoped was the surface. A sudden pressure and then a blinding pain erupted in his thigh as the Dragon's head came back and its jaws latched onto his leg, pulling him from its back and shook its head viciously back and forth with him its it grasp. He felt like naught but a rag doll. He managed to bring his sword around a lash out at the creature catching its shoulder with his blade. In response the beast flung him across the room and into a wall. The last thing he saw before he slipped into unconsciousness was the figure of the elven maiden kneeling before him.

* * *

Selene followed her elven friend to the door leading to the dungeons. Given his rather colorful way of asking favors, she had no doubt that this favor would be interesting. The last time he asked for a favor he was lying on the ground after attempting to assassinate her and begging for her to spare his life and save him from the Crows. She had to admit he had repaid that favor tenfold and she owed him, more than she could possibly say. He was a good friend.

Once they were standing at the bottom of the stairs he gestured for her to approach the lone cell in the room. She sighed, "Must you be so dramatic?"

"Presentation is everything, my dear," he chuckled.

She snorted and approached the cell. What she saw there made her blood run cold, "Nate?"

"Well, if it isn't the Hero of Ferelden, conquerer of the blight and savior of the land. Somehow I thought you'd be ten feet tall with lightning bolts shooting out of your eyes!" his voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"You've known me practically my whole life, I doubt that you thought anything of the sort," she shot back.

"True, although you were a gangly eleven year old girl the last time I saw you. Little girls have a way of growing up. And to be honest, I thought my father's murderer would be more impressive," Nathaniel hissed.

Selene felt her hackles rise and she fought to keep her ire down. After all, she had promised herself that she would not let her vengeance go beyond what it already had. "What are you doing here?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"I came here-," he started and then stopped. He swallowed hard and then looked away from her. "I thought I was coming here to kill you. But when I saw what was happening and learned how well you've been taking care of things in the Arling...I realized that I just wanted some of my family's things."

Selene nodded. "I can understand that. I was relieved that your Father hadn't sold or destroyed everything of ours when he slaughtered my family in cold blood," she sneered.

"Your family was going to sell us out to Orlais!" he snarled.

"My Father? Teryn Cousland, sell us out to Orlais? Did the Free Marches rot out whatever mind you had? Or did your traitor of a Father tell you that, Nathaniel? Perhaps he told you this right after he helped Teryn Loghain poison Arl Eamon? Captured Queen Anora? Tortured Bann Sighard's son so badly that he'll never walk right again? The list goes on, Nathaniel...let me know when you'd like me to stop telling you what a disgusting treacherous snake your father truly was!" her voice had become low and dangerous, and though a cell door separated them, Nathaniel took a step back.

"It was a war, he did what he had to do. He was following Loghain's orders!" he defended.

"You justify his cruelty as if he had no mind of his own, do not take me for a fool! If he was the man you would like me to believe he was, then he would have never gone along with Loghain's regicide. And if I was half the monster you believe me to be, then your sister would be dead right now, instead of living happily in Amaranthine with her husband," she spat bitterly. "I am not so much a monster that I would slaughter an entire family just to take what is theirs!"

"My sister? Delilah's alive?" he asked in astonishment. "But I thought-," he shut his mouth abruptly at the look on her face.

"I feel sorry for you, Nathaniel," she said finally. "Only someone raised with a Father like yours can have such a low opinion of the honor of others," she turned to glare at Zevran whom she'd almost forgotten was there. "What was this favor you wanted to ask me?"

Zevran flashed her a charming smile. "Spare the brigand's life?"

Selene raised an eyebrow, "You fancy him...don't you?"

"He is quite handsome and despite his ignorance, quite charming when he puts his mind to it. So yes, I suppose I do," he chuckled.

Selene shook her head and then looked Nathaniel over. "The law is clear on this, I can't spare his life in my capacity as Arlessa," she trained her eyes on her elven friend meaningfully.

"I know, tesoro," he said sadly.

Selene nodded, knowing that Zevran understood. There was only one chance for Nathaniel. One sentence which she alone as Warden-Commander could give. "Alright, then. Nathaniel Howe, I hereby invoke the right of conscription. Maker have mercy on your soul."

"What!" Nathaniel clenched his fists angrily. "Absolutely not! Hang me first!"

Selene laughed bitterly. "You act as if you have a choice in the matter."

"I can't decide whether this is a vote of confidence or a punishment," he muttered.

"Why don't we go with both for now," Selene suggested. She looked between Zevran and Nathaniel. "I'll leave you two to talk while I go and get the captain of the guard to release you, Nathaniel. We have two other joining's along with yours to perform after dinner. Varel is going to shite his small clothes when he sees you there!" at that thought the anger left her face and a devilish grin replaced it. "Actually, I think its worth it just to see the look on his face," with that she left the two men alone.

"Well," Zevran said, breaking the silence. "That went well, I think."

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes at the elf. "I don't know whether to be happy or extremely angry with you."

Zevran shrugged. "I have given you a chance. Perhaps you should take it as a blessing, no? No more of this goblet half empty business."

"You are a very strange man," Nathaniel pointed out. "You found out that I planned to kill your friend and you have her spare me from being executed. I can't understand it."

Zevran offered a smile and a shrug, "Some of her best friend's have wanted her dead, it is unlikely that such a thing offends her anymore."

Nathaniel's eyebrows met in the middle and Zevran chuckled again. "A story for another time, I think. For now, let us worry about you surviving this ritual. I hear it is very unpleasant."

"Wonderful," Nathaniel commented dryly.

* * *

Selene found the guard captain and informed him of her decision, she ordered that Nathaniel be released and shown to a room where he could clean up for dinner. The Captain had regarded her with an expression that she was used to getting, one of carefully guarded incredulity, and she smiled toothily at the man. "Fear not," she patted the man on the back. "I know what I'm doing," she assured him. Although it rang false even to her own ears, the Captain graciously nodded.

Rather than follow the Captain back to the dungeon and risk a shouting match with her newest recruit, her footsteps instead carried her back to the keep where she found Senechal Varel. And as expected the man nearly had a stroke right then and there when she told him whom she had conscripted. As always however he bowed and told her that he would do as she commanded.

She thanked him and then took off to her chambers, where she rummaged through the few nice outfits that she owned. She finally settled on a deep blue dress that Fergus had sent to her, she slipped into it and did up the lacing in the front. The bodice let her breasts sit high and allowed a glimpse of a modest amount of cleavage. Her Warden's oath sat in the valley between her breasts and she smiled as she sat down in front of her vanity mirror and gazed at her reflection. In the mirror a girl she could barely remember stared back at her. One that only two years before had laughingly turned down Lady Landra's proposals for her to marry her son Dairren, during Eleanor Cousland's spring Salon. She momentarily lamented the loss of her long hair only to smile at the way her short braids gave her a slightly carefree look. One that contrasted well with the elegant dress.

Of course, by the time she was done admiring herself in the mirror, the dress had come off and been replaced by black leather pants and white shirt. Knee high black books completed the look and she once again looked herself over in the mirror. The woman now staring back at her was much closer to the woman Selene felt she had become. That woman was dangerous, graceful, someone not to be toyed with. When she put those two images together in her mind, side by side. The demure giggling daughter of Teyrna Eleanor Cousland and then the serious and deadly Commander of the Grey, she decided the latter was the message she wanted to send tonight. She was no woman to be taken advantage of, and it was best that Alistair know that. No matter what happened tonight, King or not, if he broke her heart again there would be hell to pay.

Dinner turned out to be chicken and roasted potatoes and thankfully, not lamb and pea stew. Alistair had shown up, clean shaven and smiling widely at her as he took a seat at the head of the table. She sat at the other end of the long banquet table trying unsuccessfully to stop herself from blushing under his gaze.

Zevran had been seated at her right, trying to get Nathaniel to eat something when he noticed the two stealing longing glances at each other. He leaned over to Selene, "So, my dear. Are you going to our Sovereign's chambers later?"

Selene's blush deepened. "I hadn't decided," she covered her face with both hands momentarily and then dropped them into her lap. "Zev! I don't know what to do!"

"You are asking me?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Let us pretend for a moment, that he is not King, that you are not a Warden-Commander and the two of you have not had a falling out before now. What do you want to do?" he questioned.

"Drag him into the nearest dark corner, tear his clothes off and lick him from head to toe?" she growled low in her throat.

Zevran threw his head back and laughed. "Oh you naughty minx! If only I had gotten to you first, you have the most wonderful ideas!" he turned to regard Nathaniel with a raised eyebrow.

"The answer is no," Nathaniel grunted out in response to the elf's unspoken proposition.

"You see? I get stuck with Mister-stick-in-the-mud," Zevran chuckled. Selene still was not relaxed so he cleared his throat. "Well, as lovely as the tongue bath sounds, amore. You should perhaps start out more slowly, yes? Maybe a little less public as well?"

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Selene shook her head.

"You are not an old woman yet, tesoro. You fight dark spawn for a living. While you are dealing death to your enemies, please remember to live," he placed a hand over hers and squeezed. "But remind him that if he hurts you, I will kill him. Much as I like the sexy bastard."

Selene chuckled. "I'll remind him," she replied and then her face softened. "Thanks, Zev."

"You are always welcome," he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. Neither missing the growl at the other end of the table. They both laughed and went back to their dinner.

The joining went better than Selene expected with none of the recruits perishing from the blood. Oghren had even harassed Varel about the size of the cup in relation to his height. Selene had shrugged in apology when Varel looked to her for help.

When the joining was done she looked for Alistair, only to find that he had disappeared, presumably to his room. The rest of the dinner party had broken up, some gone to bed, some retiring to the common room to discuss the days events. Selene found herself alone. There was a moment that she stood in the dining room frozen with indecision. Should she go up to her room, or go to Alistair's? Her conversation with Zevran replayed itself over in her mind and she shook her head and sighed. Heading up the staircase she paused at the top, and then took a left...which happened to be the opposite direction of her room.

* * *

Alistair was at the fireplace prodding the logs with a poker when a soft knock at his door made him jump, nearly dropping the length of iron into the flames in the process. He'd given her the choice, but some part of him had resigned itself to the belief that she would stand him up. That she might indeed be truly lost to him. The knock on the door genuinely surprised him. His heart raced as did his feet as he made his way to the door. He flung it open to find Selene on the other side looking uncertain of what she was doing there. He frowned as he watched her take a step away from the door.

Rather than let her get away his hand caught hers and he pulled her into his room and shut the door behind her. She placed her back against it and looked up into his face. "Hello," she said nervously.

Alistair wasted no time on words, he placed a palm on either side of her head against the cool wood of the door she leaned against. His body trapped her there and he lowered his head until there was less than in an inch between their lips. "You're here," he whispered almost reverently.

Selene shivered as the sensations of his muscular form pressing against her and his sweetened breath tickling her lips combined. "Yes," she agreed. "It seems that I am."

Alistair's lips traveled the vacant space between them and met hers, firmly at first and then melding to hers. He coaxed her lips apart by flicking his tongue over her lower lip. Emboldened by her whimper in response to his kiss, he deepened it and caressed her tongue with his, one of his hands left the door and slid down to her hip. He squeezed it gently and she pulled away with a gasp. "Alistair," she said trying to catch her breath.

"Love?" he replied huskily.

Selene was finding it hard to concentrate as his body heat addled her brain and the length of him pressed into her belly. "What was your wish?" she questioned.

Alistair gazed into her eyes and he brought his hand up from her hip to slide the backs of his knuckles along her cheek, he smiled affectionately as she leaned into his touch. "Do you really want to know?"

She nodded. "Yes," she added.

"I guess that depends," he said.

Selene growled. "Must you be so bloody cryptic?"

"Mmm, yes?" he chuckled.

"What does it depend on then?" she huffed exasperatedly. If he kept on like this she was really going to rip his clothes off and lick him from head to toe.

"Can you love me?" his eyes locked on hers, hazel on hazel.

"Oh," Selene tilted her head to the side and brought her hand up to cup his cheek. "Alistair, I thought I stopped loving you. I thought the person I was died. I even told you as much. I tried to push you away from me. I thought...I thought if you realized how difficult us being together would be, you would give up...but Wynne was right," she smiled gently.

"Right about what?" Alistair lifted an eyebrow.

"You don't do anything half way, do you?" she questioned.

"No ma'am," Alistair chuckled again. "Pigheaded, I suppose."

Selene shook her head. "One day, you're going to regret this," she assured him. For some reason Selene's thought wandered to the incident at the Mages tower and the dreams that they had both been trapped in by the Sloth demon. Alistair had been so content with his sister. Part of Selene had been jealous that she was not what the demon had taken form as. But then again, she had been given Duncan instead of Alistair, so perhaps the demons could not adequately portray love? Maybe then...love is what they had? She didn't know, and right at the moment the throbbing in her womanhood had spread to her breasts and lower belly, in that way that only Alistair had ever provoked, and she couldn't think about it clearly. The foggy haze of lust she felt was also mirrored in his face and she was startled to realize that if the demon had chosen Alistair as her trap, she would be there still, trapped for all eternity. She wanted thes, needed it even. Consequences be damned. As Zevran had advised her, she was going to live.

Alistair shook his head vehemently. "Never. Even if we have just tonight. I won't regret any of it."

Selene sighed. "What we had...I'm not sure what it was, Alistair. I thought it was love. But now...now that we've been through so much I think...that we needed each other back then...desperately. Today, you showed me what love really looks like. You never gave up on me. I've...always wanted that with someone. It may take me time, but yes...I think I can love you. Right now though all I want is for you to take my clothes off, and make me scream your name until we wake the entire castle. And if you don't, I shall never forgive you," she finished with a growl.

Alistair's face broke out into the widest grin she'd ever seen, "Your desire is my command. And it seems you've guessed my wish."

An hour later a scream rang throughout the stone corridors of the Vigil. In his room down the hall, Zevran looked up from the game of castles that he'd been engaged in with Nathaniel and locked eyes with the handsome young man.

Nathaniel lifted one of his dark eyebrows at the elf. "Is it just me," he cast a glance at the door, "or did I just hear a woman scream the King's name?"

Zevran smiled back knowingly. "Perhaps, but I would not worry about it. I would only worry that you are about to lose your shirt to me, my dear Nathaniel."

Nathaniel snorted. "Let that be a lesson to me then," the corner of his mouth pulled upwards briefly in a small half smile. "Never enter into a game of strip-castles with seductive Antivan elves."

"That's sound advice for anyone," Zevran heartily agreed. "Your move," he purred.

* * *

Far from the human dangers of Denerim and less effective in the midst of the dangers of dark spawn, Bertram had been reassigned to help rebuild the Keep. A contingent of Denerim guards had arrived the day before to help regarrison the Vigil and he was keeping busy. Especially since the impromptu visit to the Keep allowed him to reconnect with his Aunt Gertrude, who was serving as a treasurer at the behest of the First Warden in Weisshaupt.

She'd been housed in a small cottage just outside the Vigil's inner wall and fearful that she might not be as protected as she would were she to be housed within the Keep itself. Bertram had gained leave with the King to stay with her. It afforded him a peace of mind at least and despite her thin appearance, the woman could cook better than the Palace chef in Denerim. Being outside the Vigil also gave him the opportunity to keep an eye on the comings and goings of the Keep.

What was most interesting was a certain Ser Tamara. Daily she showed up and argued with Captain Garavel, trying to get in to see the Commander.

"The Commander is indisposed," he told her.

"I do not care!" she clenched her fists at her sides. "This is a matter of her safety. I need to warn her of the danger she is in! I told you-," she was cut off by a growl from Garavel.

"And I told you!" his voice raised to just below a shout. "Without proof and in her condition I cannot allow you to see her. When you have those missives decoded, come back then!" he gave her one last warning look and then turned on his heel.

"Ass!" she called out and then stomped her foot.

Bertram approached the young woman, "Excuse me, Miss-?" he trailed off hoping she'd give him her name.

The blonde woman straightened and glared at him. "Its Ser, actually. Ser Tamara to be exact," she replied, her anger still evident in her voice.

"Beg your Pardon," he bowed. "I am Bertram Woolsey, personal guard to his Royal Highness, King Alistair. I am pleased to make your acquaintance," he held out his hand and she shook it.

"Charmed," she said and then eyed him curiously. "If you're the King's guard, what are you doing out here instead of in there, guarding the King as your large title suggests?" her eyes narrowed at him.

"Heh," he ran his hand over his beard. "You're a cunning lass!" he grinned. "Well, as you can imagine I am no match against dark spawn and such. The King and the Commander are currently...having a bit of a parley...if you will. So they're as well protected as they can be, with each other. I'm not really needed in there at the moment. So, his Majesty has me helping out with the soldiers and getting the Vigil up and running again. Might I ask what you're doing here?" he queried.

She was quiet for awhile, her eyes taking in his eyes and face as if assessing his trustworthiness, and it was very likely that she was doing just that. Finally she frowned and motioned for him to follow her.

He did, though he didn't understand why until she stopped behind one of the outbuildings and pulled out some letters. "Can you quickly decipher codes? Specifically the ones used by the Antivan Crows?" she asked.

He raised a bushy eyebrow. "No," he admitted and then a pained expression crossed his face. "But I know someone who can."

A satisfied smile crossed her face and then disappeared as she put the papers into his hand. "Good. Please get them translated as soon as you can, then contact me. I intercepted these correspondences, no I will not tell you how or where or from whom," she lifted a finger to silence his inevitable string of questions. "But I believe them to be the proof I need to expose a conspiracy against the Commander and maybe even...against the crown," she finished.

Bertram felt a frown of his own starting. "Aye, I can see why you've been pestering Garavel daily. I will get these translated immediately. When I do, where can I find you again?" he asked.

"Do you know the Crown and Lion in the city of Amaranthine?" she asked.

He nodded, "Aye, I do."

"Once you've gotten these translated go there and ask the innkeeper to see the Knight Errant. He'll give you the key to my room. Remember to knock, lest I be sleeping or...something," she finished with a faint blush.

"As you wish, Ser Tamara," he bowed again and smiled happily as her blush deepened.

"Thank you, sir," she curtseyed and then hurried off.

Bertram watched her go for a time, admiring the way her hips swayed in the dress he was certain wasn't a Knights regular attire. Once she was out of sight, his gaze dropped to the letters in his hand. Eamon had a hand in these, he could feel it. And the worst thing was not that these were proof that there was a conspiracy, but that he had to go to a certain elf for help decoding the damn things.

* * *

**A/N: Go Bertram! Ahahaha! I am unsure of Mistress Woolsey's actual first name. She just looked like a Gertrude to me.**

**I know I'm rotten for not getting into detail with Alistair and Selene's big sexin' scene, but I promise there will be one. For now you'll have to use your imaginations. Don't tell me you don't fantasize about Alistair...I know you do. **waggles her finger at her female readers****

**So it seems that I have some feedback about the next fic, and most of you decided you'd like the Orlesian Warden/Alistair fic. Believe it or not I've already started writing it! Thank you to my fabulous Beta, Melismo. And to Piceron, mille libri, Eva Galana, Liso66, Deep Neptune, and everyone else who has reviewed. I really appreciate it. =)**


	20. Chapter 20

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 20: **

* * *

"_Wake up," a voice called to him from the blackness. But he cannot do as the voice bids. His eyelids feel as though they were weighted down. And in truth, he is not certain that he wants to wake up. There is no pain in the darkness, it's cool and peaceful. The blackness does not burn like the light does. He remembers that much from the before. The before was filled with terrible beings as well, beings that hurt, that killed and sickened. Sometimes they changed, he remembered that too. There was someone he had once cared for very much that had been afraid of the changing. The changing terrified her. _

"_You must wake up!" the voice sounded again, this time more firmly and his body was shaken. He started to regain feeling in his limbs, slowly at first, the tingling of pins of needles one gets when a foot or hand falls asleep. And then quicker and sharper, the feeling increasing in clarity until soon every nerve in his body screamed in agony. _

"No, no, shhh, its alright," a voice soothed. The voice from the dark was given name when he opened his eyes.

"Seranni?" he blinked to get his eyes to focus on the slight figure leaning over him. When she did come into focus, he lost control before he even knew that he had it. His hand shot out and closed around her throat, "Why!" he growled.

"Let me go... and I'll tell you," she choked out.

"If you play me false, I will kill you!" Andre released her and watched as the elf maid's hands went up to her throat and she coughed and sucked in great breaths of air, only to cough again.

"He needs you," she said after she had herself under some semblance of control.

"He needs me?" Andre narrowed his eyes on her and pulled himself up from the cot into a sitting position. "For what purpose?"

"You are the bait," her hands dropped from her throat and she sat back on her haunches. "The Commander will come once she knows you are here."

Andre blinked at the elf for a moment. "She will," he cursed his fate. "Maker, she will! Despite..." he trailed off and he rubbed a hand over his face in frustration. The feeling of it was alien, his hand feeling numb and not entirely his own. He looked down at it and what he saw almost made him shriek in terror. "What have you done to me!" he cried out. His hand was pale and there were darkened blotches, his nails had yellowed and he took her hand in his own roughly and compared them. "Andraste's blood, you've turned me!" he shoved her from him violently.

"It was the only way!" she whimpered.

"You've damned me! And for what? To lure the Commander to her death!" he raged.

"If she sees you are like us then she will be more inclined to listen, to believe," she backpedaled across the stone floor away from him until her back was against the bars of his cell.

"Believe what?" he hissed at her.

"That we are not all the monsters that history believes us to be, Ser Knight," the familiar lisping voice interrupted making Ser Perth's gaze snap up to meet the face of the Architect on the other side of the bars.

"Somehow I doubt that," Andre spat.

"You will see, in time. The taint courses through you, even now you are changing...soon you will come to see things in a different light," the Architect gestured for the Hurlock at his side to open the door. Seranni scrambled to her feet and hurried out the door. Her quiet crying could be heard as she ran out of the room. "It seems that you have upset her," the Architect commented.

"Again, I express doubt. Creatures such as you lack humanity," Andre sneered. "Thus I also doubt the presence of your so called emotions. Though you're all wonderful actors, I'll admit."

"That is not true, we love and have empathy, just as you do. But we are also slaves, driven by our natures. We," he gestured to himself and the dwarven ghoul at his side, "have been freed of the madness that drove us to the surface. This is why I wish to talk with your Commander."

"You are mistaken," Andre replied. "She is _my_ Commander, no longer."

"You fought your way through hundreds of the Mother's minions to get to her at Kal'Hirol, despite her feelings for you, I sincerely doubt that she will not come to your rescue," the Architect offered a small indulgent smile and then left Ser Perth alone in his cell.

"Selene," Andre murmured her name and shook his head. His only hope was that Niara would tell Selene that he was dead. Though in his quickly sickening heart he knew that it wishful thinking. No matter the wrongs he had done her or she him, she was, is and always will be a hero. And heroes came to the rescue, no matter the risk to themselves.

There was nothing he could do at that moment, except wait.

* * *

There was little that was gentle about the way Alistair took her the previous night and it had been glorious, savage and liberating. She lie in his arms, watching him sleep as she let the memories of their lovemaking take her.

_Alistair's face broke out into the widest grin she'd ever seen, "Your desire is my command. And it seems you've guessed my wish."_

_He had bent forward and kissed her again, his velvety soft lips ghosting over hers and then his tongue darted out, flicking over her lips and then questing for hers. It found its goal in the warmth of her mouth and he explored her with lips and tongue, his hands never straying from their position on the door. His kisses left her heady and hot, the world started to swim in and out and the need to remove clothes, be they hers or his, became near overwhelming. "Alistair," she growled and gripped the front of his shirt in her hands and pulled it apart, ripping the fabric which resulted in small 'plik, plik, plik' noises as several buttons were sacrificed in the name of lust._

_Alistair chuckled. "Pity, I kind of liked that shirt," his jest turned into a moan as Selene's mouth found his collar bone and nibbled at his exposed skin. She smiled against him as it seemed that she would be able to finally have the upper hand. But it was not meant to be. Rather than let her continue her pleasant torture, he pushed off from the door and sunk to his knees before her._

_"Alistair?" she looked down at him with confusion._

_He offered her one of his signature goofy grins and grabbed her right leg by the calf. She watched hungrily as he removed her right boot and then the left. Then he reached up to the lacing on her trousers, untying it and then slowly pulled them off along with her bottoms. Next he stood and removed her shirt and breast band. She stood naked before him and he took a moment to appreciate the way the fire light played over her naked skin. "Never could even the most lovely of desire demons even come close to matching your beauty," he murmured._

"_Alistair," she hissed. _

_He didn't answer, he just stepped into her space and lifted her into the air, her legs wrapped around his _

_hips automatically and he pressed her back into the door. "I believe," his voice was husky and his breath tickled her neck, "you ordered that I make you scream, my lady?"_

"_Yes," she moaned._

"_As you wish," he said and then his hand snaked down between them and he soon was free of his own trousers. Before she could think he pressed forwards and up and she very nearly did scream. She was stretched as he remained still, allowing her time to adjust. There was certainly more than one thing that she had missed about Alistair, as shallow as it might be, this was one of them. The way there was no part of her that he did not touch this way. How his skin seared hers, the feeling of his heart beat against her own._

"_Move!" she growled and Alistair did and each thrust had her seeing stars. She could only hope that they did not break the door._

Alistair shifted at her side and she was brought out of her daydream by the trailing of his finger tips over her cheek. "Hello," he smiled down at her. "What are you thinking about that has you all dreamy eyed and smiling, mmm?"

"The fact that the Maker has spared you yet again for such a spectacular performance," Selene teased.

"What can I say? Its a gift," he replied with a grin and pulled her flush against him. "I'm glad you're still here."

She hummed appreciatively as his fingers traced their way down her spine. "Nowhere else I'd rather be."

* * *

Zevran could normally find the humor in any situation, and at any other time receiving a knock at the door from one Bertram Woolsey just as he'd finished making his willing bed partner cry out from one of his many talents would have been quite humorous.

But alas, such things were not to be. Much to his dismay. When he'd opened the door, clad in nothing but his trousers, sweat trickling down his smooth, lean, but well-defined torso, he found the Kings guardsmen on the other side with a disgruntled look upon his scruffy face.

"Well," Zevran leaned on the door frame, "I didn't expect to find you on the other side of my door. Not that I'm complaining. Only, as enchanting an idea it might be, I do not believe my companion would want an audience or another participant. He's so jealous," Zevran chuckled at the answering growl from inside the room.

Betram's ears reddened and then he rolled his eyes and shoved a bundle of letters into the elf's hands. "Make yourself useful and translate these, you bloody menace!"

Zevran looked down at them and frowned as he recognized the seals on them. They were sent by a well-known Crow cell that operated mainly in Ferelden. "Where did you get these?" he asked the bushy bearded man.

"A Knight brought them to show the Commander. I'd have taken them to the Commander, only they seem to be written in code. You're the only Crow I know," Bertram shrugged. "I know you're...busy," he squeezed his eyes shut as if to block out a mental image but continued speaking none-the-less. "But if you could look at those when you get a chance and then let me know what you find out? I've got a feeling that Eamon is involved."

"I shall start immediately," Zevran assured him and then bid the man a farewell with a nod of his head which Bertram returned and stalked off down the hall. The Assassin watched him go for a moment and then went back into his room.

"What did he want?" Nathaniel asked.

Zevran looked up to find the man had moved from the position he'd left him in and was now instead reclining on his side on Zevran's bed. "It seems that the Crows are taking a renewed interest in our fair Warden-Commander. Despite previous assurances that she was no longer a target." He set the letters down on the small table where they had been playing Castles only the night before. "I'll have to spend some time decoding these. It would not do to be unprepared should they attack."

"You don't have to do that right now, do you?" Nathaniel lower lip was pulled between his teeth as he he let his eyes roam over Zevran's body. "I think we were just in the middle of something...interesting."

Zevran chuckled and moved towards his bed and its occupant, his right hand going up to the lacing of his trousers and undoing them slowly. "We were...weren't we?" he purred.

* * *

Selene and Alistair finally pulled themselves away from one another long enough to make it down to breakfast. Alistair would have liked nothing better than to stay in his chambers with her for the remainder of the day but the woman had never been able to lounge around when there were things to be done. And like it or not they had a Grey Warden to find.

When they got down to the dining hall they found Anders and Oghren already there. "You think you're so clever don't you?" Oghren narrowed his eyes at the mage who did look a tad smug. "Sparkle-fingers!" the dwarf growled and then stuffed his face full of scrambled eggs, getting quite a bit of it in his beard.

"Its always nice to see you making friends," Alistair clapped the dwarf on the back before his took a seat next to Selene who was already helping herself to a sweet roll from the basket on the table.

"I'd sooner kiss the arse-end of a nug then make friends with that man-skirt wearing freak," Oghren blustered and took a long pull from his mug, ending the action with his signature belch.

"From the smell I'd wager you already have," replied Anders with a smirk.

Oghren grunted. "Stupid...Mage," he muttered.

"Alright," Selene chuckled. "Why don't the two of you accompany Alistair and me to Black Marsh? Maybe a little family outing will be just what the two of you need, hmm?"

"Ah yes, a pleasant stroll in the park...with dark spawn," Anders snorted.

"Fine," Oghren muttered.

Selene sighed. "So, do you know anything else about Black Marsh, Alistair?" Selene asked as she got some water from the pitcher on the table.

Alistair shook his head, "Not really, no. I've just heard that all the inhabitants disappeared, its said to be haunted. No one has lived there for quite some time."

"Sounds like a load of genlock dung if you ask me," Oghren grunted.

"I heard an evil sorceress ruled there once. She stayed young and beautiful by bathing in the blood of the towns children. When the townsfolk found out, they burnt down her mansion with her still in it, but not before she cursed the town. They all disappeared," Anders wiggled his fingers dramatically at the end of his story.

"Yeah, sure," Oghren snorted. "I get showered in blood all the time, don't make me young and beautiful."

Selene raised an eyebrow, "Here I thought you were going for cute and fuzzy."

"Heh, now don't you go startin' nothin'," Oghren chuckled. "Besides, heard you got you a little pike twirler last night."

Alistair choked on his roll only just barely managing to avoid spraying bits of food all over everyone. "You heard that?" he asked with widened eyes.

"Lad," Oghren patted the King on the back. "The whole castle heard this wildcat screaming your name last night! Good on ya, son!"

Anders stood up, "Well if we're going to go tangle with an evil sorceress and brave a haunted marsh, I think I ought to go and see that pretty little elven mage in the throne-room and buy some spell components," the Mage bowed to Alistair and then to Selene. "Alistair, Warden-Commander," then he sauntered off.

Selene turned to Alistair. "Alistair? Not Sire?" she teased.

"You _know_ I hate this whole King thing," Alistair huffed. "Anyway, its not like you ever enjoyed being Lady Cousland either," he pointed out.

Selene chuckled. "Touche."

They went back to finishing their breakfasts when the blond haired soldier that handled the mail appeared by Selene's side, "Message for you, Commander."

Selene craned her neck to look up at the woman, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Commander," the woman handed her the letter and gave her the bowing Salute of the Wardens. It had caught on amongst the guards and Selene did not have the energy to correct them.

Selene turned the note over to find the wax seal of Highever on it. She opened it and read it, her eyes growing wider and wider as she got further down the page.

"Selene," Alistair had noticed her shocked expression and was growing anxious to know what news Fergus sent. "Is everything alright? Nothing's wrong at Highever I hope?"

Selene looked up from the letter with a bemused expression. "No, no. Nothing wrong. Fergus is getting remarried."

"That's wonderful news!" Alistair exclaimed.

"Well, yes..." Selene admitted.

"You aren't pleased?" Alistair asked with confusion. "He's not marrying some hag is he?"

Selene burst out laughing, "No! But I'll tell Leliana you said that."

Alistair's eyes widened, "Leliana? He's marrying...oh Maker!"

"Apparently its common knowledge that you're here," she sighed. "He's invited us both."

"I always did like Fergus," Alistair commented. "You know, he threatened to beat me within an inch of my life when I broke it off with you."

Selene paled, "He didn't!"

Alistair grinned, "He did. He said King or not I had a hell of a lot of nerve breaking his baby sister's heart, and if I knew what was good for me I'd make up with you immediately."

Selene laughed. "He's a smart man, my brother."

Alistair bestowed a gentle kiss on her cheek and then gave her a soft smile. "A very smart man. And I am glad I listened," he cleared his throat. "So, when is Teryn Cousland's wedding anyway?"

"A month from now," Selene smiled happily. "Which means that by then we'll have this Eamon mess cleared up and we'll know why the dark spawn are not retreating to the deep roads."

"The Mother and the Architect," Alistair shook his head. "You'd think they'd have done us all a favor and just killed each other off but nooo. Its like playing Mabari in the middle, only we're the Mabari."

Selene frowned at the analogy. "That's such a disturbing thought," and it was. To be caught between two warring factions of darkspawn. This Architect, whomever he was, seemed interested only in using them as pawns against the Mother. He'd attacked the Vigil and taken the bodies of Wardens. For whatever purpose, he needed to be stopped. A bitter taste flooded her mouth, familiar and hated. Revenge. A hunger that was not easily sated.

* * *

Andre slipped in and out of sleep, something that his body seemed to crave now that he was afflicted with this...whatever it was that the Architect had done to him. When he was ailing with the blight disease before, he fell to a fever and was bedridden. However, at the moment he felt only extreme fatigue and hunger. The weakness itself was not as troubling as the latter. The hunger frightened him, the cravings to eat raw meat had shaken him badly and he fought against it. Seranni had brought him a skinned rabbit, and though the smell of its blood tantalized his senses and his stomach clenched with want, he couldn't bring himself to eat it. The desire to just pick it up and tear it apart with his teeth and hands, to feel its blood flow over his chin, made him clutch all the harder at the remnants of his hastily fading humanity.

"You can't avoid eating," a familiar and increasingly detestable voice spoke up from outside his cell.

Andre's eyes opened to slits and he glared at her through them from his position in the corner of the cell. He he had placed his back against the cool stone, the feeling of its strength behind him served to anchor him. He wondered vaguely earlier if this was why the dark spawn retreated to the deep roads when there was no longer a blight. Perhaps the feeling of the stone comforted them in a way that open skies and air never could. "I'll eat nothing that's been touched by you, least of all something raw."

Seranni stepped up to the bars and grasped them with her tiny hands. Her pale forehead came to rest upon the bars as she peered in at him. "I fought it too. We all did."

"Why did they take you?" Andre asked, suddenly curious.

"He didn't take me, he saved me. The one the Architect opposes, she is called the Mother. She stole me from my sister then she left evidence at our camp that implicated human's in my kidnapping. If my sister is still alive...she's probably slaughtering humans a dozen at a time by now. She is powerful in the old magics of my people," she explained.

"So, the Architect saved you from this 'Mother' and then he turned you?" Andre pressed.

"No, by then I was already dying of the taint. I begged him to do this," she looked down at the floor. "My people have slowly been regaining our immortality. The Dalish have little contact with shems. It was you that robbed us of our long years. I was looking forward to living at least a century and a half. That was taken from me and I...I was frightened of dying. That is why he did it. Because I asked it of him."

"All those men and women at Soldier's Peak. Why did_ they_ have to die?" he asked.

"They did not," she responded.

"You invaded!" Andre retorted.

"We were not given a chance to explain our presence. You merely assumed and then you attacked!" Seranni stamped her foot angrily.

"Ferelden has just escaped the blight and you and your 'Architect' think it's wise to approach a Grey Warden Fortress en mass and heavily armed in the dead of night? What else did you think would happen?" he scoffed.

"I was not part of the planning," Seranni pointed out. "I would not have advised such actions. Utha has...a less than subtle approach. She has also been tainted far longer than I. Though they are intelligent, they are still dark spawn. Overwhelming the enemy, even when attempting peace, is simply in their nature."

Andre snorted. "So is eating people, I suppose? What in the Maker's name is he using Warden's blood for?"

"To awaken the dark spawn. To stop blights," she said.

"To what?" Andre couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Seranni sat down cross-legged in front of the bars and looked at him for some time before speaking again. "The blight causes the dark spawn to obey the call of a blood-thirsty Old God. That which you call the Archdemon. It rages at being trapped and it calls us to it until we set it free. Then it uses us to kill you, its hated enemies. For it desires that which was stolen from it, freedom and power. We die as slaves. Helpless against the call that clouds our thinking, the song that gives us a blood lust and rage that is not our own. The Architect awakens the dark spawn to give them free will."

"So this 'Mother' is opposed to freeing the dark spawn?" he asked curiously.

"I do not know. She was one of the first freed, and she went mad. She yearns for the song. Others that also miss the call of the Archdemon follow her. She is the cause of most of the trouble above. The Architect needs the Wardens to defeat her," she finished.

"No, he doesn't," Andre replied.

"Do you doubt me?" she narrowed her silvered eyes at him.

"I don't doubt that you've been fed lies to justify his actions but mark my words, the Architect only wants the Commander. If he needed the Wardens to defeat the Mother then he would not have slaughtered so many of us. I believe that he thinks to use the Commander to slay the Mother. Then he will take control of both factions of the dark spawn and we will go on as before. If you think he has entirely unselfish intentions then you are a fool. One who cannot see passed the silvered tainted veil this monster has pulled over your eyes!" he growled.

Seranni looked taken aback by his verbal attack. And hurt. Andre sighed. "Forgive me, I realize that this is not your fault. You are as much a pawn in this as I," he softened his voice though the anger he still felt caused his pulse to drum out a painful beat in his temples. He still felt like raging at her.

Seranni nodded accepting his apology. "The meat will soon spoil. Do not wait until your hunger consumes your mind," she advised and then she picked herself up from the the floor and left.

When she was gone Andre's eyes strayed to the pitiful corpse of the rabbit on the floor before him. "Ser rabbit," he sighed heavily, "I am starting to develop an extreme dislike for you." The de-pelted animal made no reply and Andre took that as a sign that he was at least still sane, for the moment. Satisfied in this knowledge, he let the Fade envelope him once more.

* * *

**A/N: Wooh! Chapter 20! I admit to struggling with this chapter a little. But by the end it worked itself out. I only hope you enjoyed it. By the way, did you know I posted a new fic? "The Awakening" made its debut and I'm very excited about it. Check it out if you haven't already.**

**Thank you to Melismo as always for working so hard on my stuff. She rocks.**


	21. Chapter 21

**The Tainted Knight **

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 21:**

* * *

Sigrun watched as the Dalish Warden knelt beside dark spawn tracks that were weeks old. They'd entered the Wending Wood days ago, in hopes that they would be able to track down the nest they originated from. Despite the surprise attack on Soldiers Peak, not all had been killed or dragged away.

Of the surviving two dozen, Sigrun, Watcher Rilyn and Avernus had volunteered to go with her to rescue what Wardens they could. More specifically, Sigrun hoped to rescue the one friend she had made on the surface. Ser Perth.

"Looks like the tracks lead into that mine," Rilyn said as he stood. He pushed one of his blonde braids away from his face and regarded Sigrun with a worried expression. "I will have trouble tracking them below ground."

"Don't worry, I'm a legionnaire scout. If they're down there, I'll find them," she said firmly.

She turned to Avernus who was leaning on his Mage staff. He'd done admirably well with the travel, considering how old he was. Why he wanted to come had been beyond her, but his help had been invaluable. She was especially impressed when he saved her from being overwhelmed by dark spawn.

One moment she was watching wide-eyed as a band of Hurlocks surrounded her; snarling slash-like mouths grinning down at her one moment, and in the next they were screeching in pain simultaneously as they were hit with a spell that immobilized them and damaged them from the inside out.

After she and Watcher Rilyn defeated the beasts she'd pulled him aside, "What in the stone was that?"

Avernus folded his thin arms over an equally thin chest and sniffed, "Blood-magic." His tone signifying that he expected her to be upset about it.

"That was sodding great!" she exclaimed excitedly. "It really is too bad that Dwarves can't do magic. We really could have used that in the Legion!"

Avernus regarded her with an incredulous expression but didn't bother to reply.

After some contemplation Sigrun concluded that blood-mages were looked down upon even more than Castless and elves. Still, she couldn't see why the humans would be so opposed to the usefulness of blood-magic. Certainly even the most discriminatory of humans could find it useful to boil the dark spawn from the inside. Or turn them against their foes with a muttering of a few words. Rilyn had explained to her that it had to do with the human's religious beliefs. Which she could understand. The Shaperate and the Chantry, while having different beliefs and different goals, certainly knew how to control the masses.

She was grateful to have him with them. Rilyn's reasons had to do with the fact that he was Watcher and when the dark spawn ambushed the Peak, he felt responsible for the lives lost and the Wardens taken. If there was a chance that he could get even one Warden back, then he was willing to make the journey and take that chance. Rilyn wasn't worried about losing Sigrun in the rescue operation, being Legion of the Dead as she was, she was used to being swarmed by dark spawn daily and knew how to get out of near hopeless situations with ease.

Avernus's reasons for joining the quest had been infinitely more puzzling. It was no secret that Avernus had not left his tower for hundreds of years and when asked he said that he wanted to find Ser Perth just as much if not more than she. Which surprised Sigrun because as the whole Peak knew, the two men did not get a long. Or at least, Ser Perth was adamantly opposed to Avernus. Avernus himself was famous for his scathing remarks on the young man's idiocy. When asked why he wanted to find the young knight so badly, Avernus merely shrugged and said that before this business with the dark spawn was over, they would need Ser Perth. He would say no more on the subject.

Sigrun led her companions into the entrance of the mines, as soon as the stone closed over her she felt as if she was coming home. The endless sky no longer threatened to swallow her up, and the comfort of the stone embraced her like a mother's arms. Beside her Watcher Rilyn seemed to stiffen as they descended into the darkness. She frowned at his reaction and hoped that he didn't get claustrophobia like some surfacers did. Elves seemed to have a harsher reaction to being underground than human's did. "Don't sodding freeze up on me!" she hissed out to him in warning.

He didn't say anything but simply nodded. Her vision, being better in the dark than in the light, took on the pale cast of his face and she frowned. He he froze up during a fight, they were in a arse-load of trouble.

They navigated the tunnel-system easily enough, most of the dark spawn they found were wandering about by themselves. It seemed that the bulk of the monsters that swarmed them at the Peak were no where to be found. Perhaps they were roaming the surface. Wherever they were, Sigrun was glad for the lack of great numbers of them. She came upon a straggler or two and managed to sneak up on them and quietly kill them before they even knew she was there. An hour, maybe two underground and she was beginning to see signs of their fallen and captured fellow Wardens. The odd discarded griffin emblem shield, a Warden Longsword, a helm. The further they went, the less confident of finding survivors she was.

Finally, when it seemed to her that there was no one left she and her two companions found themselves in a dungeon. There was a stench about the place, like rotted meat and sickness. Sigrun only managed not to gag more than once by breathing through her mouth instead of through her nose. She nodded to both men and they helped her check the cells for inhabitants. They were all empty, all but one.

In the last cell, sitting with his forehead resting in his arms, which were crossed over his knees, was the figure of the man that she'd hoped to find. He auburn colored hair was darker, having been matted with sweat and dirt, his armor gone and replaced with filthy commoner clothing, his feet were bare and extremely dirty. "There you are!" she said with relief.

Andre's head picked itself up and he looked around blearily. "Sigrun?"

"Who the sod else would it be?" she chuckled.

Ser Perth's eyes finally found her and she recoiled in horror. "Ancestor's preserve us!" she hissed.

"You shouldn't have come," he said with a tremor in his voice.

"As if!" she retorted. "Hey, Avernus!" she called the old Mage over and then she deftly picked the lock on the cell door.

As they entered the cell Andre pushed himself further back against the wall, "Don't!" he held up his hand to signal for them to stop. "Don't come any closer. I am diseased!"

Avernus looked the Knight over from where he stood. "The method of infection?" he asked.

"The one in charge, he-," Andre shuddered. "He took my blood and then I was told that he put something back in, I don't know what. Dark Spawn blood, poison, what does it matter? I'm dying no matter the cause."

Avernus snorted. "Young idiot," he replied calmly. "You're infection is not airborne as it was injected. It should only be contagious through blood to blood contact. But as I would have to run other tests to confirm it, I will be the only one to approach."

Andre sighed heavily and nodded. He knew better by now than to argue with the elderly man. He would do just as he pleased regardless of Andre's wishes. "Just don't let Sigrun near me," he said, ignoring the hurt in Sigrun's eyes.

Avernus cast a meaningful glance at the dwarf woman before he took a step towards the Knight. He crouched down next to him and without touching him, looked him over. "Hold out your hands," he commanded.

Andre did as he was told and watched with silvered eyes as Avernus cataloged his symptoms. After a few moments Avernus stretched out a weathered hand and rested it on Andre's shoulder. "There is hope lad. Though, I think you will rather die of your disease than follow through with its cure."

Ser Perth's eyes narrowed. "Blood Magic," he hissed out.

"Just so, but now is not the time for such discussion, let us take you out into the light of day, my lad, before you make any decisions," Avernus offered.

Andre's pale face showed doubt but the Knight nodded none-the-less. "I should like to see the sun once more," he simply said.

* * *

Zevran Aranai may not be a very tall man, elven as he was, but when he was angry it was like a storm followed in his wake. He struck an imposing figure as he stalked through the halls of Vigil's keep with murder in his eyes. Maker help anyone who stood between he and his intended target when he was worked into a state of rage. And in a rage he was, he had just finished translating the letters that Bertram had given him and what he found angered him more than he even he thought he was capable of. The Crows that were contracted to kill Selene and also Alistair, were from the cell that he came from. Somehow he foolishly thought that his old Master would have left him alone, that anyone would tangle with the Grey Wardens after they defeated the Archdemon itself, seemed like suicide. The Client was Bann Esmerelle, whom he was certain was acting on behalf of someone more important. Though the person of import was only referred to as "our honorable friend in Denerim", it didn't take great intelligence to realize that this was indeed Eamon's doing.

He reached the cottage that Bertram was staying in and his raised his fist to the door, banging on it rudely. Thankfully, Bertram was the one who answered, his appearance was disheveled and he was rubbing his eyes. "You have to the count of five to explain why you're banging on my door in the middle of the night. Or you're going to be limping back to your lover, and no amount of knob-gobbling is going to make up for the world of pain you're going to be in."

"You know, all this unresolved sexual tension between us is quite unhealthy, at some point we should rectify that, I think," commented Zevran with a raised brow. "But now is not the time for such things," he cut Bertram off as the bushy-bearded guard opened his mouth to retort. "For now you must be made aware that when Selene returns from her explorations of Black Marsh, there will be an attempt on her life. My old Crow cell is here in Amaranthine, and Bann Esmerelle and Eamon are behind it. I have no concrete proof of Eamon's involvement, but...I think I might know of someone that we could hire to find it for us."

Bertrams eyebrows drew together. "Who?"

"The Dark-wolf," Zevran replied.

"We need real solutions, elf. Not rumor. Which is what the Dark-wolf is...rumor and nothing more. No one has ever actually seen the man and he's as much a legend as the Griffins," Bertram grumbled.

Zevran clucked his tongue, "Ah-ah-ah, you should trust me, my grumpy friend. _ I_ happen to know the man."

"Of course you do." Bertram passed his hands over his face and then tugged on his beard, "What time is it?"

"Two hours before dawn," Zevran replied.

"And where would we find the Dark-wolf?" Bertram eyed the elf speculatively.

"In the foreign quarter of the City of Amaranthine," Zevran crossed his arms and shifted his weight onto his left leg. The way Bertram was going with this conversation it could well be that he'd be standing here until lunch.

"Alright, go get us some horses," Bertram grunted out and then shut the door in Zevran's face with a thunk.

Despite the rude exit, Zevran's anger at the situation dissipated in the face of actually getting to do something about it. He turned on his heel and made his way back to the Keep, he needed to nip down to the treasury, if they were going to deal with the Dark-wolf, they'd need some coin.

* * *

_Kristoff folds up his map and slips it back into his pack with a frown. He has journeyed several days to find the Black Marsh, only to find himself thwarted time and time again in the attempt. He tamps down the desire to growl in frustration once again. Just as he seemed to be getting close to the boundaries of the town, a mist would suddenly come off the marsh and he would be lost and wandering again. After the third instance he decided that strong magic was at work. Which would make perfect sense given the rumors that surrounded the place. _

_The fog has rolled into the wooded area surrounding the marsh that he has traveled within for days and he sighs heavily as he starts making camp. It is already getting late into the evening and at this rate he would be wandering around these lands forever if he did not find some other way of navigating. He's chosen a particularly good spot he believes to make camp. A rock formation that looks a little like a soup bowl standing on its side, serves to protect his tent on three sides. Making it hard for him to be surrounded in the dead of night. There is no one to keep watch with in the night. The unnatural stillness of the surrounding wood makes him wish that he had taken the time to ask someone to accompany him. But at the time it seemed like such an easy task, one that would not take but a few days to complete. Hardly worth sending two Wardens for. He was to investigate strange occurrences and possible dark spawn sightings in the area of Black Marsh. A scouting mission, nothing more. _

_If he'd known that he would be lost for over a week in this Maker forsaken country, he might have thought better of it. Consequently, here he sat, nursing the few dry bits of wood and tinder he has found into a meager fire and wondering if he would ever be able to find his way out, let alone find a way in. How many adventurer's had attempted to explore the Black Marsh, only to find themselves wandering in circles? He had a feeling that the number was very high, and the number of poor souls that perished in the attempt, equally so. _

_A crack of a branch to the north of his position draws his attention away from the flames. "Hello?" he calls out. Only silence answers. Thinking that it is a wild animal he goes back to the fire and his thoughts. But another crack from the same direction has him springing to his feet, longsword in hand. "Show yourselves!" he shouts, hoping that the confidence in his voice will deter whatever it is from approaching._

_That's when he hears them, feels their evil aura tearing at his. The whispers invade his mind, clawing at his control. More noises now, they are coming from everywhere. He is being surrounded..._

* * *

"There it is," Alistair said with triumph in his voice. "I told you I'd get us here!"

Oghren swung his ax up to rest on his broad shoulder, "Aye, looks like the place."

Selene grinned, "And we only got lost seven times, I'm impressed."

Alistair shot her a look and straightened up, lifting his nose slightly in the air. "Well I got us here, in one piece!"

"Yes, my Lady," Anders piped in, "give him some credit. He did manage to do just fine once he realized he was holding the map upside down."

"Alright, alright," Alistair held his hands up in surrender. "I admit, I got us lost. But we're here now. Maybe we should stop picking on the King and start looking for the lost Warden, mmm?"

"Sounds like a good idea," Selene said, coming to his rescue.

They ventured into the town on a raised dirt road that was flanked on all sides by the Marsh. Some of the dwellings had fallen into the murky water and were rotting where they lay. Every once and awhile they would come upon small clues to the previous inhabitants' existence. Deteriorating fencing traced the plots of land where villagers built homesteads and Selene could feel the melancholy of the place.

After some time they happened upon the body of a dark spawn, "Kristoff's doin', looks like," Oghren commented.

"Most likely, though it bodes ill for his welfare I imagine," Selene frowned.

"Look," Alistair pointed down the path. "I think I see a manor house at the end there, do you see it?"

Selene stood up from where she was crouched next to the Hurlock. Her eyes focusing on what appeared to be a black iron gate at the end of the pathway. Beyond that the area was shrouded in mist, a large black shape beyond gave the appearance that the gate opened out upon the courtyard of a large Mansion. "I see it," she replied. _I just don't like the look of it._

"Do you think Kristoff could be inside?" Anders asked.

Selene shook her head. "Its a centuries old building that hasn't been lived in for a very long time, its likely any disturbance could have it crashing down around your ears if you set foot in it. From what little time I've known the man I've learned that he's no fool. He'd sooner sleep outside some place," she thought for a moment. "Some place where he's protected. Let's look for a rock ledge somewhere," she took off down another path, leading parallel to the marsh.

Anders watched her go for a moment and then turned his eyes on the King with a exasperated look. "Does she do that often?"

"Do what?" Alistair asked.

"Take off into parts unknown into as yet unrealized danger, like she's on holiday?" Anders asked.

"Yep," Alistair chuckled. "A holiday, with dark spawn."

Oghren belched. "Lass certainly knows how to show a man a good time. Well, come on ladies. Lets get moving before she has fun without us!"

"Your fun looks a lot like stupid from over here," muttered Anders. He watched as the King and the dwarf followed after the Commander. The newly recruited mage took another look at his surroundings and sighed heavily. "Almost makes me wish I was back and the Tower," he shook his head and then hurried to catch up with them.

* * *

**A/N: Sigrun to the rescue! **

**This is getting to be a nail-biter of a story. Oh I hope the author doesn't kill Andre! Oh...wait...I _am_ the Author. No Andre killing. =P **


	22. Chapter 22

**The Tainted Knight **

**A Dragon Age Fan Fiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 22: Blood and Atonement**

* * *

Selene watched as the last of the tears in the veil were sealed. The spirit of Justice regarded her with the discolored eyes of her former comrade in arms, and once again she felt her stomach turn over and threaten to spill itself all over the ground.

"Where do you think she will be Justice?" she asked him instead, hoping that taking her mind of his state of living, or death, would help her to keep down the meager contents of her belly. The woman they were talking about was the evil sorceress whom Anders had talked about before coming to the Marsh. They had been tricked into the Fade by a dark spawn named 'The First'. While there they discovered that the Baroness had sundered the veil, bringing the whole town with her. In the Fade she ruled over and abused them, just as she had in real life. They confronted her, along with a benevolent spirit who called himself 'Justice'. They defeated all the wraiths she called and 'The First' was destroyed when the Baroness used the dark spawns life force to sunder the veil again. Selene and her companions were sent back. Only when they woke up did they realized that the spirit of Justice had come with them.

"The witch will have gone back to the place where she first entered the veil. That is where she will be," he replied.

"Alright," she nodded to the rest of her companions. "Lets head over to the mansion. I'm sure the Baroness will appreciate a little welcoming party."

"Aye," Oghren took a swig of his ale from his beard flask. Then he heaved his ax upwards and set it on his shoulder. "Sodding bitch has got an appointment with old reliable, here. I'd hate to disappoint her."

"Grey Wardens," Justice interrupted. "Keep in mind that she is no longer human or possessing of a human body. She is a demon of pride. I can alter your weapons for a time, it should help to bring her down," he offered.

Selene drew her swords and held them out to him. "Do it," she commanded.

Oghren and and Alistair held forth theirs as well and Justice cast whatever spell it was on them. Anders merely shook his head. "I'm already magical, thanks," he said earning a snort from Alistair.

That done Selene led them towards the mansion. Their earlier trek through the marsh had made the travel safer and this time there were no werewolves jumping out at them from the abandoned buildings, no dark spawn, or horrid children to contend with. They entered through the gates and found their target standing before the mansion, looking up at it.

"So this is the world of mortals," she observed to herself. "How very dull it seems, so unchanging and immutable," she turned and found Selene and her companions watching her. "It will make it all the easier to conquer you, I think," she sighed contentedly.

"I think you'll find this 'dull' world of ours much harder to conquer than you think, Baroness. Perhaps you should have tried conquering more of the fade instead. Of course, it _did_ look like it was conquering you, didn't it? What with the villagers barricading you in your home. Just like they did here. Oh dear, you're just not very good at this whole conquering thing are you?" Selene mocked.

"You will regret those words. The mortals of this realm will bow down before me! Let us start with you," she spread her arms outwards palm up and light spilled forth from her. They watched as she grew in height, her body twisting into spines and chitinous skin, black as the marsh and twice as evil looking.

They fought what seemed to be an endless battle and when it was finally over Selene was nursing a broken arm and Alistair was sporting a rather spectacularly bruised face. "Most people raise their shields when things come flying at their face," Selene said with a laugh and then a wince as the motion jostled her injured arm.

"Yes, well. Better _my_ face than Oghren's, he wouldn't be quite so adorable with a crooked nose," Alistair pinched the dwarf's cheek and Oghren slapped his hand away.

"Don't be touchin' if'n you ain't buyin'," Oghren grunted.

Selene shook her head and waited patiently as Anders healed her arm. The itch of the bones mending together drove her to distraction until the blue-white glow around her arm diminished. When Anders was done she moved and flexed her arm. "Thank you, Anders."

Anders gave her a bright smile. "You're welcome! Its the least I could do for the woman that gave me the cutest little kitty ever! Isn't that right Ser-Pounce-a-lot?" he said as he checked his pack to make sure that the cat in question was safe. He was rewarded with a meow in response.

Selene chuckled and then turned back to where Justice waited, looking uncomfortable in his borrowed skin. "So, where will you go now, Justice?"

"I do not know," Justice seemed startled by this question. As if he hadn't even entertained the idea of needing to do anything. "It would seem that I am trapped in the body of this..." he searched his bodies memories of what its life was like before he came in possession of it, "...Grey Warden? I cannot return to the Fade and the only other way for me to leave this body would be for me to die. I must confess to a certain fear of that idea. Suppose you tell me what I should do, mortal? You seem like an honorable soul and wise in the ways of this world. What should I do?"

Alistair stepped up beside her. "He's handy in a fight, I'll give him that much," he commented.

A smile pulled at the corner of Selene's lips. "Yes, he is. Isn't he?" she canted her head to the side and regarded Justice with a calculated expression. "The body that you now inhabit once belonged to a Grey Warden. You could join us," she suggested.

"You mean to say that I should carry on this man Kristoff's mission, and continue fighting the dark spawn?" he asked as he fingered his decaying chin thoughtfully.

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean," agreed Selene.

"It was a dark spawn that slew this man most ignobly. It would be a purpose to avenge this man's death. Yes, I think I shall," he nodded.

The smile that spread across Selene's face felt as bitter as she was certain it looked to everyone else. Despite that she was gaining a Warden, she had also lost one. And a good one. Justice, as handy as he was, would never replace Kristoff. Just as she was a poor substitute for Duncan. "Then what should I call you?"

"I have no name," Justice responded. "Only an ideal to which I aspire. If you must call me something, call me that. I am Justice."

"As you wish," she gave him a nod. "Well, lets get back to the Keep, shall we?"

They agreed and so they left the Black Marsh behind.

* * *

Bertram followed Zevran through the crowded streets of Amaranthine's coastal city, and he was slightly glad that the elf is ahead of him. On the way to the city, Zevran pestered him endlessly about Isabella and the idea of the three of them playing 'pirate' on her ship. He quickly learned that there was no part of a sailing vessel that could not be made into a sexual innuendo and finally took to ignoring the elf. Which oddly enough seemed to satisfy the elf. Of course Bertram belatedly realized that it was Zevran's intention to either make him explode in anger or goad him into a brooding silence. As a result Bertram took his revenge in the form of glaring daggers at the assassin from the relative safety of the elf's wake.

If Zevran noticed Bertram's glaring, he at least remained silent about it. Perhaps knowing that he'd pushed the bushy bearded guard to his breaking point. Eventually they made it to the far side of town and Zevran stopped before a man wearing a full helmet. "Tell me my friend, have you ever seen a Wolf talking to a Raven?" he asked the man.

"Only because the Raven is a pest unlike any other the Wolf has had the misfortune of meeting," the man chuckled and clasped hands with Zevran.

Zevran clucked his tongue. "Now, now...its not like you didn't enjoy every minute of it."

The man shrugged, "Before and during wasn't the problem, it was being left tied up in that Rivaini Inn that was upsetting."

Zevran smirked. "You got out."

"Only after I managed to convince the chambermaid to release me. It seems she met you only minutes before and could completely sympathize with me," the man chuckled again, then looked past Zevran to Bertram. "Who is this? A new victim of yours?"

"Certainly not!" Bertram bristled.

Zevran sighed theatrically. "Alas, I have not managed to convince Bertram of my many talents."

"Don't let him fool you," the Dark Wolf assured Bertram, "the dangers far outweigh the benefits."

"It's alright, the benefits aren't to my tastes anyway," Bertram responded with a grunt.

Zevran put on his best pout, "You wound me, my dear Wolf."

The man snorted, the sound much louder within his helmet. "So, to what do I owe this dubious pleasure?"

Zevran proceeded to tell the Dark Wolf about the Crow missives and how the suspected Bann Esmerelle behind them. When he was done the Dark Wolf agreed to take them to a contact that he had at the Bann's Estate. An elven servant named Verenia.

"Why don't you go talk to the servant girl? I have an errand to run," Bertram said as he walked next to Zevran.

"Ser Tamra?" Zevran asked with a lifted brow.

"Aye, the lass deserves to know what we learned," he responded.

"Alright, fine. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Zevran warned with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Which isn't sodding much," he retorted before taking his leave of the elf and the man known as the Dark Wolf.

Bertram wasn't too far from the Crown and Lion. So getting there didn't take very long. He stepped inside the tavern and let his eyes adjust to the dimness and the sharp stench of soured Ale soaked into the wood floor.

"No, she ain't here," the Innkeeper replied to Bertram's inquiry while drying up a spill on the bar.

"You wouldn't know where it was that she went, would you?" Bertram asked.

"No, and when Bann Esmerelle's men came in to take 'er, I weren't about to ask. You follow?" the Innkeeper squinted one eye at Bertram. "Folks that go pokin' 'round in things they oughtn't, tend to go missing 'round here. You might keep that in mind, stranger."

Bertram stroked his beard. "Aye, I will, and thank you kindly."

With a curt nod the Inn Keeper went back to his work, scowling all the while at the patron who had made the mess he'd just finished clearing up. Bertram retreated back out into the sunlight of the mid-day outside of the tavern, his mind on Ser Tamra and what could have befallen the woman.

* * *

"Just kill me," Andre croaked out.

"No," Sigrun growled. "Avernus...please? Just do it! I don't care if he's angry! At least he'll be a live angry man instead of a dead angry one!" she pleaded.

"One woman has already made the mistake of going against his beliefs, my dear. Don't underestimate the power of his bullheaded idiocy," Avernus replied as he poured a blueish liquid from one glass vial into a slightly larger vial filled with a red substance, it turned a brackish green color.

"I don't want him sacrificing someone's life energy to save me!" Ser Perth near shouted and then lapsed into a coughing fit.

"What if I could promise you that I wouldn't be killing anyone? Would that suffice?" Avernus asked.

"The power has to come from somewhere," Andre retorted.

"It does, but that doesn't mean that the ritual itself is evil, or the person performing it. If the person who the energy is coming from volunteers, then it is not _so_ bad...is it?" he said in a tone that would have been persuasive on anyone else, but sounded absolutely diabolical coming from him.

"You aren't going to summon up any demons, are you?" Andre asked with trepidation.

"No, and in fact, this ritual will help me atone for an old mistake. Long ago Warden-Commander Sophia Dryden bade me conjure Demons from the Fade to defend the Peak. They turned on us and slaughtered everyone in their path. It was my greatest failure. One I still relive in my nightmares," Avernus sounded suddenly his age, his voice wavering where before it was suddenly strong and commanding again. "Let me make up for it."

Andre found that the defeated expression the mage had briefly displayed, upset him more than anything the aging man had ever said to him. It simply seemed fundamentally wrong for Avernus to look anything but disdainful. Mages like Avernus were never meant for regret or shame. It was simply just not right. "Alright," Andre said finally.

"What?" both Avernus and Sigrun said simultaneously.

"If you can guarantee me that you won't kill anyone with this ritual, then I will let you at least try," Andre said.

Avernus nodded. "I will not have the blood of anyone else on my hands, Ser Knight. I swear on my honor as a Grey Warden."

"Alright," Andre agreed. "What do you need me to do?"

"I must prepare," Avernus replied. "For now, get some rest. We will be ready to do the ritual within the hour."

Andre watched as Avernus bustled off to prepare his spell components and an area for the ritual. When the elderly mage was out of sight, he found himself alone with Sigrun. The dwarven woman looking a little at a loss for something to do. She fidgeted nervously and picked at her nails. "Thank you, again."

She looked up at him from her hands and her face went from lost to worried to back again. "Don't thank me for doing my sodding job," she replied.

"Sigrun, have I done something to upset you?" he tilted his head so that he could see her face as she tried to turn away from him.

"What ever would give you that idea?" she asked sarcastically.

"You haven't really spoken to me all that much," he replied.

"Well, its your own sodding fault!" she growled. "After all I went through to find you, you've done nothing but wallow around in your own sodding misery! All you had to do was grow a pair of stones and let Avernus heal you. But nooooo!" she folded her arms and glared at him.

"You're right," Andre said.

"I...what?" she blinked at him, confused by his sudden turn around in attitude.

"I said you're right. I wasted a lot of time feeling sorry for myself and being angry at Avernus, Selene, and even Xephi. Now Xephi's dead, I lost Selene and now Avernus is willing to save me, despite how terrible I've been to the man. We should have already been on the road to Vigil's Keep. The Architect and the Mother aren't going to defeat themselves," he settled down until his back was against the tree they laid him under and closed his eyes.

"When we get there, do you think...do you think you and the Commander will get back together?" she asked quietly.

Andre opened his eyes to peer at Sigrun curiously. "I don't know. Why?"

"Oh, no reason," she said hurriedly.

"I've done her a great wrong, Sigrun. I am not sure that I loved her for the right reasons. I do care about her, its practically impossible not to. I would have fought through Kal'Hirol for her based solely upon the fact that she is a wonderful woman, and a friend. But love her, the way she deserves to be loved? For herself and not for what she represents? I am not sure that I know her well enough for that. It happened very quickly, you see..." he trailed off as he watched Sigrun's face relax.

"What do you think?" he asked.

"Me?" her eyebrows knitted together. "You want to know what I think?"

"Yes, you're my friend, of course I'd like to know what you think!" he chuckled hoarsely.

"I think you should follow your heart," she replied.

"That's always good advice," he nodded. "In that case, I think I shall just concentrate on defeating these dark spawn. One thing at a time, right?"

Sigrun nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

Avernus chose that moment to reappear, "I hate to cut this short, children. But I am ready to perform the ritual."

Sigrun and Andre exchanged glances and then Sigrun bent forward and helped Andre to his feet. Avernus directed them to where he had drawn lines in the forest floor, the crisscrossing patterns dug into the wet dirt and leaves sent a chill down Andre's spine. Watcher Rilyn stood nearby with a grave expression on his face. Andre thought briefly that perhaps the elf had been talked into donating his lifes energy, he gave the elf what he hoped looked like a grateful glance and then turned to Avernus.

"Avernus," Ser Perth began.

The elderly Mage turned to regard the Knight expectantly.

"If this doesn't work and I don't get the chance to tell you...Well, I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

Avernus' mouth pursed and he blinked rapidly, then turned away. "Bah! Don't be so sickeningly sentimental. Deposit yourself in the middle of the circle, before I change my mind!" he commanded.

Andre and Sigrun exchanged knowing smiles and then Sigrun helped Andre into the circle, careful not to smudge any of the carefully drawn lines. When he was settled she removed herself from the circle and took her place next to Rilyn.

"Once I begin, no matter what happens, do not enter the circle or try to stop the ritual. _Both_ the Knight and I could perish if you do," Avernus warned. Receiving a nod from both Sigrun and Watcher Rilyn, Avernus turned back to the circle. He looked down upon Ser Perth for a moment in contemplation and then nodded. He raised his hands over his head and started chanting the words to the spell, blue energy erupted from his hands as he lost himself to the spell.

They watched on as the surrounding atmosphere became oppressive, pressing in on them and making them feel as if they were underwater. The words of the spell crept over them like skittering insects, crawling over raised goose-pimpled flesh. Somehow the sky overhead darkened and clouded over, though only moments before it had been a clear sunny day. The wind picked up drastically and Avernus chanted louder to be heard over the sound.

Suddenly a barrier erected itself around the circle and Avernus's chant changed into something different, infinitely more twisted, the very sounds of the words left an oily sick feeling in the pit of Andre's stomach. Then understanding hit him, his eyes widened and he pulled himself to his feet and staggered over to the barrier, he raised his fists, slamming them against the barrier and screamed for Avernus to stop. But the Old Mage continued working the spell. Andre started to panic and shouted for Sigrun to stop it, but she merely looked on, wide-eyed and pale, rooted to the spot. It was then that Andre realized that not only did the barrier keep him in, it also kept him from being heard, from warning them of the danger.

"No!" he screamed. "No, don't let him! I am not worth this!"

Avernus changed hand movements and the energies that he had been working with changed as well, the elderly mage seemed to turn into a fountain of blood as dark blue and black energy streamed from his hands and the barrier, picking Andre up from the ground and burning away the blight disease. A great scream of horror, pain, and sorrow was wrenched from the Tainted Knight.

It felt like forever, that feeling of being burned from the inside out, that is until the blackness that had periodically taken him since he was captured by the Architect, took him into that land of oblivion. Unconsciousness can be a blessing from the Maker, of that much he was certain.

He wasn't certain how long he was passed out, but when he awoke, his head was cradled in Sigrun's lap. She was crying, "Wake up, you sodding Duster!"

"Sigrun?" he croaked out.

"It's me," she cried harder and laughed in relief at the same time. "You jerk! You scared the stone out of me!"

"Sorry," he mumbled, then his eyes widened in horror. "Don't let him do it, Sigrun! He won't make it! Stop him! You have to stop him!"

"I-," she hiccuped and then sniffled. "Its too late, he's gone. I'm so sorry! I...didn't know until it was too late!" she cried. "I didn't know!"

"Oh...no...no, no, no..." he clung to her as he pulled himself up, his eyes immediately finding the body of the man who had simultaneously saved his life and sacrificed his own. "No, Avernus...not for me..."

Watcher Rilyn was kneeling next to the elderly mage, his head bent as he recited the elven poem for the dead.

_Swiftly do stars burn a path across the sky,_ _Hast'ning to place one last kiss upon your eye._ _Tenderly land enfolds you in slumber,_ _Softening the rolling thunder._ _Dagger now sheathed, bow no longer tense._ _During this, your last hour, only silence. _

* * *

**A/N: I apologize for the time it took to get this chapter out to you guys! I think I got a bit burnt out on it for a bit. Probably because I just went through another play through.**

**I credit Bioware and Dragon Age Wiki for the elven poem. You hear it in the Dalish origin play-through, from Hahren Paivel.**

**I hope that this last scene felt as powerful to you as it did to me. Avernus finally atones, and in doing so, he's also saved our hero. **

**Thank you for sticking with this story. The end may be soon within sight.**


	23. Chapter 23

8

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction **

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 23: Knights, King, Bishops and Pawns**

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* * *

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Sigrun walked with her eyes on the ground, as was becoming her habit now that she was a surface Dwarf. The description would have hurt more if she was born with a cast to begin with, instead of being the third generation Duster that she was. But she enjoyed being in the Legion, despite the fact that it meant her life was forfeit. She had been welcomed there, in a way that Dust Town had never welcomed her.

She was engrossed in her thoughts of the Deep Roads, her life in the Legion and her new family of Wardens, when she felt the presence of the Dalish Watcher beside her. He had been following behind her and behind him, was the stumbling muted presence of the man she called friend. A man that she could not figure out how to get through to.

"You need to talk to him," the elf at her side said after a time.

"Nothing I say is going to sodding help him get over what's ailing him," she grunted out.

"You're the only one that can get through to him," Rilyn replied.

"We'll get him to Amaranthine, and the Commander will fix him," she said.

Rilyn grabbed her by the elbow, bringing her up short. "You know as well as I that seeing her is just going to make him feel even more guilty than he already does," he hissed out. "We all know what happened between the two of them and he's been through enough. Please, Sigrun…if we get attacked he's going to be next to useless in a fight," he tilted his head in Ser Perth's direction where the man had sunk to his knees on the forest floor when they stopped moving, aware only that they had stopped and heedless of the reasons why. He stared down at his open hands as if they were evil things.

Sigrun grimaced. She knew exactly what this was, survivor's guilt. Avernus had just been the last strike on the anvil. She fixed Rilyn with a decisive expression. "Watch him, I'll be right back."

He nodded and watched as she dropped her pack and rooted around in it for a bit, eventually she retrieved a small cooking pot and she took it with her as she stalked off into the wood. She returned a few minutes later, the pot filled with water she had gotten out of the nearby river and she brushed past him to the Knight still sitting on his knees. She stopped before him and waited several seconds before heaving a weary sigh and dumping the no doubt freezing water on the Knight's head.

The resulting yelp of shock, surprise and a little anger sent the forest creatures for hundreds of yards skittering away in fear. "Maker's balls!" he swore and jumped to his feet. His hands balled into fists at his sides and he towered over her. "What was that for!"

Anyone else Sigrun's size would have shrank away from the tall furious Knight, but Sigrun stuffed her tiny fists on her hips and glared back at him. "For what ails you, that's what! And by the Ancestor's I'll do it again the next time your attention wander's again, you got that soldier?" she growled.

Andre's anger was startled right out of him, "What are you talking about?"

"A herd of Genlocks could have danced all over you and you wouldn't have noticed," she jabbed him in the gut with her pointer finger eliciting an 'oof' from him in response. When they rescued him he'd been dressed in dirty clothes instead of armor, they had yet to get him another set. They had managed however to scavenge a longsword from a dead hurlock they'd found the day prior, which he wore in a sword belt at his hip.

"I would too," he muttered indignantly, but the scowl on his face indicated that he knew she was right, he just didn't like it.

She lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Alright," he sighed and rubbed his palms over his face. "I'm sorry. Its just…this has all been my fault."

"The only thing that's your fault is the very unmanly whining you've been doing," she replied. "Shake it off, before you get the rest of us killed."

She turned on her heel and she shoved the pot at Rilyn as she neared him, "Here, put that in your pack," she scooped up her own and slung it over her back, continuing on without so much as a backward glance at either of the men.

Rilyn and Andre's eyes met. "Glad to have you back, Lethallin," Rilyn said with a smile and then he put the pot away hurriedly before taking off after Sigrun.

Ser Perth looked his now sopping wet self over, still mildly shocked that she had dumped water all over him and oddly…grateful. He was moping, he knew it. And Sigrun had had enough. A sudden twinge of guilt hit him, different from the guilt he'd already been wrestling with. She was right, if they'd been attacked he wouldn't have responded in time because he was distracted. He could have gotten not only himself killed that way but Rilyn and Sigrun as well. He followed after his fellow wardens, a new purpose in his stride.

* * *

Bertram Woolsey was a decent warrior but absolutely shite at being stealthy. He knew this, Alistair knew this, and now Zevran and the Dark Wolf were painfully aware of it as well. He stalked up to them as they stood talking with the elven servant by the name of Verenia. All three turned to him as the dissonant clanking of his plate armor greeted them as he approached.

"I thought you said no authorities," the small dark haired elven woman hissed to Zevran.

"Authorities?" Zevran blinked in mock innocence. "Who? Bertram there?" he tilted his head to indicate the clanking monstrosity of a Kings Guard. "Don't worry about him my dear, he is my personal guard. One cannot be too careful when one deals in secrets, yes?"

She narrowed her eyes on him. "Well then, you should fire the shem, with all the noise he makes no secret you have will stay thus for long."

Zevran chuckled, "Thank you, my dear. Advice from lovely elven maidens is always appreciated."

Bertram, by this time had stopped at Zevran's side and then folded his arms over his broad chest. "Where is Ser Tamra?" he glared down at the girl.

The woman paled and shook her head. "Please, I don't know anything about that!" she said too quickly.

Zevran rounded on Bertram with a look of extreme annoyance. "You know, now that you are here and we agreed that I should take care of the more _delicate_ parts of this investigation, why don't you go clink over that way and leave this up to the experts, yes?" he hissed out angrily.

"The Innkeeper down at the Crown and Lion said that Bann Esmerelle's men took Ser Tamra away for 'questioning'. If this lass knows where she is, I suggest that either you wheedle it out of her, or you let me beat it out of her. Either way, I'm not leaving without the Lady Knight," Bertram growled.

Zevran sighed theatrically and then turned to the Dark Wolf. "I thank you for your help, my friend. But it seems as though I am not likely to get out of this without taking the direct approach."

The Dark wolf nodded and then reached up and squeezed Zevran's shoulder. "You know where to find me when it comes time for payment," the man said smoothly.

Zevran smirked and then nodded. "Indeed."

With that the Dark Wolf disappeared into the shadows and for everyone present, with the exception of one Antivan Assassin, for good. Bertram turned his gaze back on the elven girl, who seemed to shrink in on herself. "Please," she begged. "I can't tell you that, she'll kill me."

Zevran advanced on the girl and placed a hand on the doorway next to Verenia's head. He leaned down and forward coming in close so that it seemed almost as if he was going to kiss her passionately. She shrank back until her back and the back of her head met with the door frame and she swallowed loudly.

Zevran clucked his tongue, "Now, now...no need to be frightened of Zevran my lovely Ferelden blossom," he soothed. He reached up and trailed the back of his knuckles over her soot smudged cheek. "I promise that no harm will befall you. I only want to know where they took Bertram's Ser Tamra and then we will go fetch her and take her home. No one will know it was you that told us. In fact I will make sure that you cannot be held responsible. How does that sound?"

The elven woman's wide blue eyes stared up at him trustingly and she nodded. "She's below, in the dungeon. They... used the lash on her yesterday. They made me clean her up," the woman looked down at the ground with shame in her eyes.

Zevran lifted her chin with his forefinger and he stooped downwards and brushed his lips gently over hers. "Good, very good, mia fiore," he leaned back and then he took out a handkerchief and a small vial from a hidden pocket on his armor. He then took the stopper out of the vial and dropped a few drops onto the handkerchief. "Now, I am going to put this over your mouth and nose and I want you to inhale the vapors deeply. It will put you into a deep slumber and when you awake, all of this will be over and everything will be alright. Anyone that finds you will think you were overtaken when we infiltrated the estate. Can you do that for me?" he asked.

She looked from the handkerchief to his face and back again. "It will just put me to sleep?"

"Of course," Zevran purred out. "A nice refreshing sleep."

At her nod he pulled her gently into his arms and put the cloth over her mouth and nose and held it. She tried to look into his eyes as she breathed in the fumes on the cloth but he turned his head away from her and closed his eyes. Her own eyes widened and she struggled in his grip, he held her fast and soon her body slackened and fell limp in his arms.

Zevran laid her down carefully, almost reverently in some nearby bushes. Bertram watched the elf curiously. "She struggled a lot for only being put to sleep," he commented. He was unready for the murderous look the elf shot him, the glare was so scathing that he drew back a step. "You didn't put her to sleep did you? You killed her!" he accused.

"Ah, and what part of my being a ruthless, murdering, Antivan Crow confuses you exactly? Is it the ruthless part or the murdering part?" Zevran snarled out.

"Listen here," Bertram started to growl back but was silenced with a menacing glare from the elf.

"No! You listen you sweaty Fereldan idiota!" the Antivan hissed. "I could have come back later and seduced her into telling me where your precious Ser Tamra was. But no! You had to know right away! As soon as we had gone inside to retrieve the Knight, the girl would have sounded the alarm and then we'd be dead along with your precious Ser Tamra. You know, I happen to be one of the most skilled Assassin's in all of Thedas. So, when I tell you to take your inept clanking backside elsewhere, do me a favor and get lost, yes?"

Bertram opened his mouth to retort and Zevran cut him off again. "One more word out of your mouth and I shall leave you to storm the estate all by your lonesome, do you understand?"

Rather that answer Bertram grunted in acknowledgment.

"Good. Let us go rescue this woman, then," Zevran drew his Dar'Misaan's and disappeared through the doorway into the estate.

* * *

Teagan folded his arms over his chest and glared angrily down at his boot. Eamon was pacing around the room, railing at Alistair's gall at replacing him as Chancellor. Eventually Teagan could take no more and he pushed himself off from the wall where he had been leaning and headed towards Eamon's door.

"Teagan, where do you think you're going?" Eamon questioned.

"Back to my Arling," Teagan replied dryly.

"Don't forget who gave you that Arling, Brother," Eamon sneered, evidently believing that Teagan would hang his head and close the door that he was now preparing to exit through.

Teagan instead turned a pitying look on his older brother. "I used to think I knew you Eamon. I believed in you once. Now I think that you never truly woke up from Jowan's poison. All you are now is your ambition. Abandon this foolish plan now, Eamon. Before its too late," with that he left the room, leaving a very shocked Eamon behind.

* * *

Selene clanked into her room at the Vigil, tired and heartsore. Watching Kristoff's widow run from the reanimated corpse of her recently deceased husband was not how she wanted to introduce Justice to the Wardens. The spirit of Justice could really be of great use to the Wardens. She was thinking she might have Wynne come and speak with the spirit, being that she had dealings with such spirits before. She wondered what kind of spirit Wynne's was. Being that Justice was the spirit of Justice. She pushed these thoughts from her mind as she pulled her armor off, one piece at a time. The maids came bustling in with hot water for her bath and she greeted them with an acknowledgment as she wrestled with the straps on her breast plate.

The last maid made a squeaking noise before she left, causing Selene to roll her eyes. She growled at the bothersome strap and then she felt masculine fingers push hers out of the way.

"Here," came the familiar voice of the man she loved. He managed to undo the strap and he helped her out of the bothersome armor.

She turned and offered him a grateful smile. "Hello," she said.

"Hello," he replied and pulled her newly unarmored body into his arms.

Selene wrinkled her nose as she got a nose full of their combined stench. "Maker's mercy! We smell horrible!"

"No, I'm pretty sure its just you," Alistair pulled back slightly to grin down at her. "The King never smells."

Selene snorted in an unladylike fashion. "Alright your Highness. Then I won't ask you to join me while I bathe.

"On second thought," he grinned goofily as she laughed and pulled him to the bathing chamber.

They wasted no time in divesting themselves of clothing and Alistair got in first and Selene slid into the water after him, positioning herself so that she leaned back against his chest.

"You know, the last time we were in this tub together you were unconscious with vomit on your cheek," he teased as he grabbed the bar of soap off the side of the tub and started to work up a lather between his large hands.

She groaned. "Not one of my finer moments."

She felt the vibration of his chuckle through her back and she leaned her head back with a sigh, enjoying his warmth and the soft glow of the candle light allowing her eyes to relax after all the horror she had been afflicting them with as of late. Alistair took her right hand in both of his and started washing her, working his way up from her fingers to her shoulder and then he repeated the action with the other arm.

She hummed contentedly as he worked the tension out of her muscles, rubbing her tired limbs with soap and water. Eventually though he'd washed all the parts he could reach without touching her more sensitive areas and then proceeded to wash those as well. Soon her contented sighs turned into breathy moans and when he had satisfied her she returned the favor.

When they were dried and the tub drained they fell into her bed together, exhaustion finally getting the better of them.

Just as she was drifting off to sleep, Alistair's fingers stroking through her hair and the rhythmic beating of his heart in her ear she heard him whisper, "You're the only woman that I've ever spent the night with, and if I have my way, you'll be the last."

Her eyes widened and she lifted her head off of his chest to look him in the eyes with a shocked expression. "Alistair, are you asking what I think your asking?"

"If I was, what would your answer be?" he responded with undisguised hope in his voice.

"I wouldn't want it any other way," she responded instantly. "Maker, you have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that."

Alistair flipped them over suddenly and captured her lips with his own. "I'm sorry, my love. I'm so very sorry it took me so long. You deserved so much better," he said when they finally needed air.

"Hush," she interrupted him and pulled him down for another kiss.

His hand traveled down her side and to her hip where he squeezed. She shifted her legs, opening for him, crying out as he slid forwards, his hips settling against hers. He buried his face in her neck with a groan as he finally buried himself to the hilt within her.

Selene, sensing his overwhelming emotions held him as he trembled and clutched her to him, he lifted his head eventually and in the moonlight she saw the love and devotion etched into his features, so clear that it made her heart ache. "I love you so much," he whispered reverently and he surged forward and she cried out as the delicious friction brought a wave of pleasure that rode up the base of her spine and cut off any intelligible reply she might of have made.

It was long into the night when it was finally over, Selene fell asleep, safe in the arms of her King, for once feeling as though something was finally going right in her life.

* * *

As Alistair and Selene lay in each others arms, Sigrun, Rilyn and Ser Perth had finally made it to Vigil's Keep. They were greeted by Varel, Nathaniel and a sleepy Anders.

Rilyn was the first to step forth and clasp hands with Varel. "Varel you old dog! Has the Commander been keeping you busy?" he asked with a grin.

Varel chuckled. "Busy isn't the word for it. We were attacked not long ago, before she got here from Soldier's Peak, in fact. Speaking of which, why are you here instead of up there?" he asked curiously.

Rilyn's grin slid off his face. "You didn't hear?" his eyes traveled over the faces of Varel and the two Wardens at his side. "Niara never made it?"

"Niara? No, we haven't seen her. Blast it all, man! Tell us what happened!" Varel demanded.

"Soldier's Peak has been wiped out. Everyone was killed, except for a few. Niara was sent to warn you, the Architect is coming. We think the Mother might be readying an attack as well. When either might come calling is uncertain. But they are coming," Rilyn watched as the two Wardens exchanged horrified glances and Varel's face fell.

"Lets get you all fed and in bed for the night. We'll inform the Commander first thing in the morning," Varel said with a frown.

"Shouldn't you tell her now?" Ser Perth interjected.

Varel shook his head, "She just returned from the Black Marsh with King Alistair. They were pretty exhausted and are no doubt in no condition to think on this clearly. We'll put everyone on alert. The Keep has been adequately repaired and fortified against another attack, we'll be ready if something happens before morning."

Ser Perth said nothing more and if anyone noticed the way he reddened at the mention of King Alistair, no one said anything.

* * *

**A/N: I'm sorry if this seems a little short. I had to rewrite it several times as each time the chapter took shape, something terrible happened. The worst of which is a nasty virus that killed my computer. I've been working off a laptop, trying to get some stuff out to you guys. I'm going to try to write ahead a bit and save it to a disk so that I have back up in case this kind of thing happens again in the future. Again, I apologise for the delay and I thank you for your patience.**

**Thanks to Melismo for being an awesome beta and helping me iron out the wrinkles. =)**


	24. Chapter 24

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 24: Saving Ser Tamra**

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They had found one of Bann Esmerelle's soldier's harassing an elven maid just as they entered the kitchen. Zevran easily snuck up on the man and knocked him cold with the pummel of his Dalish sword. He flashed a toothsome grin at the pretty young thing and she giggled before helping the Assassin drag the lout to a little used storage closet and divested him of his armor.

She murmured a shy thank you and turned a consciously blind eye on their presence and their purpose as Zevran shoved the pilfered chainmail into the hands of the King's personal guard. "Put that on," he ordered.

Bertram would have growled at anyone else but he needed Zevran, as the elf certainly seemed to know what he was doing. When he had gotten out of his own armor and had slipped into the chainmail he turned a 'Now what?' expression on his co-conspirator.

Zevran grinned like a cat eyeing a mouse and held up a length of rope. "Now you tie me up," he replied to Bertram's unspoken question.

Bertram took the rope with a raised eyebrow and watched as Zevran turned around and crossed his arms behind his back at the risk. "Do it loosely so that I may wriggle out of it should our ruse not fool anyone, yes?" he instructed.

Understanding dawned on the bushy-bearded guard and he did as the elf bid. Once done he grabbed Zevran by the upper arm and made a point of dragging him out of the kitchen and into the mess hall. "Come on, you!" he spat nastily as Zevran struggled and cursed at him for the benefit of the guards eating.

The guards laughed uproariously as Zevran spat on the side of Bertram's cheek. "Uppity knife ear!" Bertram growled and back handed Zevran with a nice loud crack.

The effect was immediate as the guards cheered Bertram's rough treatment of his prisoner. The raucous laughter still spilling forth into the hallway as Bertram pulled Zevran out of the mess hall and deeper into the estate. When they were out of earshot of any guards he halted and turned to the elf. "Are you alright? Why the hell did you make me do that?" he hissed.

Zevran had a small cut on his cheek that was developing a bruise around it. "Because if I didn't struggle they would have been suspicious. Besides, I think you rather enjoyed getting to hit me after I murdered that lovely young thing outside of the Keep because of you," Zevran sneered.

Bertram scowled at the elf. Mostly, because he knew he was right. One did not pick up a sword and expect it to never shed blood. Just as one did not enlist the help of an assassin and a scoundrel and expect no one to die. He winced inwardly as he thought that perhaps King Alistair's naïve nature was rubbing off on him a bit.

"When this is over, I will make it up to the girl's family," he said by way of an apology.

Zevran gave him a startled look and then a small hint of a genuine smile. "Perhaps, I have been mistaken about you after all," he said.

"Good, I'm sorry, you're sorry, lets get this over with," Bertram grunted and then pulled Zevran, a little more gently this time, down the hall where they found another door.

They passed some guards and thankfully they did not appear to be going the wrong way. They slowed until they were out of sight of anyone before they peered through any doors to see if they had found the doorway to the dungeons. Eventually they did find the door and as Bertram shut it behind him he let go of the elf, who deftly maneuvered himself out of the ropes.

Bann Esmerelle's estate was not heavily guarded. There was one lone guard at the bottom of the stairs and Zevran took care of the man, quickly and near silently, with a hand over his mouth and a dagger slipped expertly through the ribs and piercing a lung, leaving the man to drown in his own blood, making only a slight gurgling noise.

They moved from cell to cell, and Bertram had just about given up hope when there was a woman's scream, blood-curdling and pain-filled. Both bearded guard and smooth assassin looked at each other in fear and acknowledgment before they both bolted down the hall and towards a door where the scream had emanated from.

Bertram reached the door first, throwing it open in rage and haste and was brought up short by a the sight of the woman he had been searching for being tortured by two men.

They wore leather aprons over their clothing, and each looked to be enjoying themselves immensely as they looked upon their handiwork hanging by shackles. Each held a particularly vile sharp instrument in their hands and each looked up simultaneously at the intruders. They looked nervously from the newcomers to the woman standing off to the side with two guards.

Banne Esmerelle's shriek of displeasure would be heard in Bertram's nightmares in the years to follow. "Get them!" she cried shrilly and drew her daggers from their sheaths.

Bertram roared and charged the guards, letting Zevran deal with Esmerelle. He bashed aside the first guard with his shield and slashed outwards with his blade at the other, the tip sliced across the second guard's throat, a spurts of blood pumped out in time with the guards quickened heart beat and he went down just as Bertram's grip changed on his longsword and the blade was plunged downward into the chest of the stunned guard he had knocked down. He wasted no thought to the state of Zevran as he knew that the ex-crow could handle the noblewoman on his own. Instead he wiped he blade on the dead soldier at his feet and hastily sheathed it and then ran to help the limp form of Ser Tamra.

She was naked save for her small-clothes bottoms and a mixture of sweat, blood and grime that covered her body. Her skin had strategic gouges and slashes from the cruel tools the torturers used. Her back held the criss-crossings of the lash, which looked to have been applied first as they appeared to have stopped bleeding and some of them were already festering. He took her chin gently in his hand and lifted it so that he could see if she was conscious and he hissed at the swollen eye, slit lip and broken nose. The lass had put up quite the fight. He felt a stab of pride and then he unlocked her shackles with a key he found on one of the torturers, whom he realized had also fallen to the Antivan's blades as they had jumped in to help Bann Esmerelle as she fought with Zevran.

He had just finished unshackling her when he head a sickening 'thud-thud' noise and something hit the side of his foot. He looked down and found the face of Bann Esmerelle staring back at him, her face frozen in a perpetual look of disdain. He recoiled slightly and kicked the woman's head away from him.

He looked from the woman sagged against him in his arms, to his chainmail armor and then to Zevran who was cleaning his blades. "Can you wear those things on your hips?" he asked.

The elf looked up at him with a lifted brow and then he took in the sight of the woman they had come to rescue. He nodded. Ser Tamra was badly wounded and Bertram's armor would only tear open her wounds further. Zevran's leather armor was far more conducive to carrying her over his shoulder. He quickly took his sword-belts and adjusted them from the shoulder harness to fit snugly over his slim hips. Then he let Bertram help him sling the human girl over his shoulder. Seeing the frown on Bertram's face he followed his line of sight to the woman's mostly bare but shapely backside.

"Don't worry, my scruffy friend. We'll grab a cloak to throw over her before we escape.

Getting out of the estate proved to be much more difficult than getting in. Bertram and Zevran at one point ended up cornered as an seemingly endless amount of guards poured into the main hall, trying to stop the intruders before they escaped.

Just when Bertram thought that they would die in the estate, there was a shout from the other side of the hall and the soldier's attention was momentarily pulled from the bushy bearded guard and the assassin to address the new threat, which turned out to be the Dark Wolf and two other men that wore the same full helmet that he did.

The battle wore on and eventually they were able to escape. Bertram had taken a crossbow bolt to the shoulder but it did not stop him from cutting down the foes in their path. He simply dropped the shield he could no longer hold and instead lashed out wildly with his longsword hacking apart anyone in their way.

* * *

Later that night found Zevran and Bertram back in the foreign quarter, in a hidden room in the house of one of the Wolf's contacts. Bertram sat on the floor beside the cot that the knight lay on, his arm in a sling close to his chest and his other arm resting on his knee as he stared off into space.

They had all been cleaned up and their wounds dressed and had been given decent clothing while their armor was repaired and cleaned as well. They had been allowed to keep their weapons and Bertram listened to the comforting 'ring' of steel on whetstone as Zevran sharpened his blades by the fire.

He observed the elf for awhile. They had been at odds in one way or another since they met. He had not understood until that day, exactly why it was that Alistair had suffered the elven man's nearly insufferable sexual innuendos, the way in which the elf needled until he got under his skin, the seeming inability to take practically anything but fighting seriously. Even then he could sometimes hear the elf laughing wildly in the heat of battle, taunting his foes, as though he had a death wish. But when it came down to the wire, Zevran was a good man to have on one's side. He was loyal, in his own way.

"Thank you, by the way," Bertram spoke suddenly, surprised at how his voice loudly shattered the peaceful silence of the room.

Zevran's head snapped up to regard the Guardsman with an uneasy suspicion, gauging perhaps, whether or not Bertram was being sarcastic or genuine in his gratitude. His face relaxed when he realized that Bertram was genuinely thanking him. "I did not do it for you, or your Lady Knight."

"Who did you do it for then?" he asked curiously.

"I did it for the Rose," he replied.

"The Commander?" he asked.

Zevran nodded. "During the blight, the King and I had a bit of a competition for her hand. He won," he replied with no hint of bitterness.

"You don't seem to upset by that," Bertram pointed out.

"Do I not?" Zevran chuckled. "She made it clear to me that she cares about me, but that we were not meant for each other. The more I saw her with Alistair, the more I came to understand that she needs a certain type of man. A man that I could never be. As long as she is happy, then I can be happy as well. An assassin cannot afford to pine."

Bertram studied him for awhile before speaking again. "I suppose not," he then turned his gaze on Ser Tamra. "Do you believe that there is someone for everyone?"

Zevran gave the guard a predatory smile. "I am a believer in several someones. Sometimes all at once."

Bertram rolled his eyes at the man. "You know what I mean."

Zevran chuckled. "Yes, I suppose I do. Though, I think that someone has already come and gone for me."

"What happened to her," Bertram asked, looking back at the elf and finding that Zevran was staring down at his blades as if they were alien to him.

"I killed her," he said and then slipped the Dar'Missaan's into their sheathes.

Bertram struggled for something to respond with and was mercifully saved by the stirring of the Lady knight.

"Nnnn!" she groaned out and squirmed. "Nnnoooo!" she cried out and her eyes flew open.

"It's ok," Bertram gently grabbed at one of her flailing arms to keep her from hurting herself. "You're safe. You've been rescued."

She struggled a bit longer but gradually she realized that she was no longer in the dungeon and her struggles ceased, instead she took in her surroundings and then her eyes fell on Bertram. "It's you!" she exclaimed.

He grinned. "Aye, lass. Just lay back and rest now," he said.

"No, you have to send a message to the Commander! Bann Esmerelle is planning on ambushing her at the keep, she's going to orchestrate a riot as a distraction and then…" she was silenced by a calloused finger against her lips.

"She's dead, lass. The conspiracy with her, I wager. You concentrate on getting better," he tried to sound reassuring and it must have worked because the woman did as he told her and lay back down, instantly falling back to sleep.

"She needs a healer," he said when she was snoring lightly.

Zevran looked up at him thoughtfully. "You know, I think I know of someone. She may be leaving town shortly but if I go now, I may be able to catch her."

"Who is it?" Bertram asked as the elf grabbed a cloak and threw it over his shoulder.

"Wynne," he said with a triumphant smile and then disappeared through the doorway.

Whatever Bertram had been expecting the adoptive mother of his King was certainly not it. He marveled at the smallness of the world as he again sat back down with his back against the wall. His shoulder twinged, reminding him that he also needed to rest and recuperate.

* * *

Zevran stepped out into the morning sun. The relief at being out of that house and away from the probing questions of Alistair's guard was almost palpable. He sauntered his way through the streets and found himself, not long after, bounding his way up the steps and the woman he'd come to know as, "Ah! My darling Wynne! There you are my silver-haired beauty. You did not think you could hide from Zevran forever did you my magical temptress?" he purred out.

Wynne's eyes widened marginally and predictably her cheeks pinked. She really was quite lovely for a woman of her age. Her eyes held the barest hint of crows feet and the tiniest of smile lines graced her otherwise flawless porcelain skin. Her hair, while quite white, shined prettily in the Fereldan sun. Her full lips pursed in that way that always set his blood humming in his veins.

"Zevran," she greeted politely enough. "What brings you here?" she had no sooner finished the question than her eyes widened again, this time in concern. "Is something wrong with Alistair?"

"Your Motherly concern is touching, my dear. But no, I do not come on behalf of his royal sexiness," he chuckled at her grimace.

"But I do need your help for someone who has worked very hard to keep both him and Selene safe in these troubled times," he offered her his arm with his best smile.

"The last time you smiled at me like that, I ended up very drunk," she said with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"And very naked," he reminded her with a smirk.

She laughed. "And I trust that you've kept that part to yourself?" she scolded lightly.

"Oh, but of course! Such titillating experiences such as that need to be kept between its participants. Trust me when I say, my darling Wynne," he leaned close to her so that his breath ghosted over her ear, "I would never tell anyone how bad you are at strip-wicked grace," he whispered.

Her cheeks reddened and she swatted his arm. "You are a terrible scoundrel," she said fondly. "Now, what kind of mischief have you gotten into?"

* * *

Bertram did not know how long he had been asleep for, but when he awoke it was to the familiar gentle proddings of Wynne, the court Mage. "Never-mind me," he said groggily, "help the lass, there." He tried to sit up further so that he could check on Ser Tamra but groaned as the pain in his shoulder flared up angrily.

"Bertram Woolsey, if you move again I shall cast a paralyzing spell on you," she reprimanded him.

"Ser Tamra-," he started to say and was cut off by a sharp look from the silver haired mage.

"Will be just fine," she finished for him. "But if you don't get this tended to it will keep reopening and will likely get infected. Its close enough to your heart that…well I don't have to tell you what might happen," she fixed him with her, 'don't argue with me young man' look, and he finally settled back and let her cast a few healing spells over him. He could feel the tingling inside the wound on his shoulder and the cooling sensation that signaled the repair of the muscle the bolt had lodged into.

"What about the girl?" he asked after she was done and he was allowed to sit up. He looked over her face in the firelight and noticed that her eye was less swollen and the bruises on her face were nearly gone. Her nose appeared to have been set and the split lip was almost entirely healed.

Wynne's face turned a bit sad. "She'll be alright by tomorrow. She had many external injuries as well as…internal ones," the look on her face said it all and Bertram felt hot anger rise up like bile in his throat.

"Those bastards!" he swore.

She laid a calming hand on his forearm, "Bertram, I have some other concerns that lie outside these walls. I have sent word to Vigil's Keep but I don't know if they will get it in time."

Bertram looked away from Ser Tamra to regard the aging woman attentively.

"Yesterday I was brought to a house on the outskirts of the city, two of the family there had the blight disease. I couldn't cure it, of course you know that no one can. I eased their passing but then, this morning, there were three more. When I asked them if they'd been outside the city they answered no," she fidgeted with her hands.

"Andraste's tits, woman!" Bertram huffed impatiently. "Get to the point."

"Well the one thing that all of the cases had in common was a secret passage leading below the city. The sickened families had been below the city looking for salvage from the smugglers that the Commander dispatched. They…they all said they thought they saw…dark spawn," she finished with a tremble in her voice.

"Maker!" Bertram shot up from his position on the floor. "We need to get those passages sealed and the city ready for an attack.

"You think that's possible?" she fretted.

He tried to keep the horror from his face but was afraid that he failed badly because it was echoed on her face. "They attacked the Vigil from underground, Wynne. They're sending out scouts now. We need to contain this before it gets out of hand!" he turned to Zevran. "Stay with the women, I'll be back as soon as I can!" he left, ignoring the indignant huff of the aging mage.

* * *

Bertram practically ran all the way to the gates where he knew that he would find the Captain of the guard. Luckily he knew the man, otherwise he didn't think he could convince him about the impending dark spawn invasion.

"Ho there, Bertram!" Aidan called out. "Its been ages since I've seen you, man! How is your Aunt?"

"Aidan!" Bertram clasped hands with the man. "I have dire news."

The man's face fell. "Its always dire, these days. What's happened?"

"The cases of blight disease, its coming from the underground cove. The dark spawn are scouting for weaknesses, you must seal the secret passageways!" he replied.

Aidan's face paled. "Maker have mercy!" he appeared to be thinking quickly. "I don't have access to any explosives. I doubt putting anything heavy over the doors would work either. I'll send word to the Vigil, see if they can send that mad dwarf Dworkin here to take care of it," he replied.

Just then a scout came running up to them, "Captain! Captain!" the young man yelled and nearly collapsed out of breath and exhausted when he reached them.

"What is it, man!" Aidan barked out, more out of fear than impatience.

"There's a horde of dark spawn coming out of the south, they're heading towards the city!" he cried out.

"How long?" he asked and when the young man didn't seem to hear him he grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him roughly. "How long!"

"Two days," the young man replied with wide terrified eyes.

The Captain paled. "We don't have time to seal the passageways," he said as he turned to Bertram. "Maker help us all. We're sitting ducks!"

"There's more," the messenger said.

"The horde split in half as I watched. Half of them travels to the Keep," he replied in a near whisper.

"Andraste's blood!" Bertram growled in frustration. "What the hell do we do?"

Aidan rubbed his palms over his face, his frustration mirroring Bertram's. Finally he turned back to Bertram, "We evacuate the city."

"You know as well as I that they'll follow," Bertram said.

"Sod!" Aidan swore. "What do you want me to do, Woolsey?"

"Get the refugees into the city, raze the Crown and Lion to the ground and set a barricade around the area. Send a messenger to the Vigil and pray to the Maker that they make it ahead of the horde or we're dead," Bertram replied.

Aidan nodded. "It might not be the best plan, but it's the only one we've got. Alright," he nodded and then started barking out orders.

Bertram made haste back to the safe-house to try and prepare. He would need Ser Tamra well and ready to fight before the Horde got there.

* * *

**A/N: Not even Wynne can escape the charms of Zevran unscathed. Charming Rogue that he is. Lol**

**Well, I think that I am finally getting the loose ends wrapped up. If I've missed anything important, please let me know. I would hate to leave unanswered questions. We have perhaps two or three more chapters to go before the end.**

**Thank you to the wonderful Melismo, who just edited two chapters for me today. I'll have the next out to you hopefully within the next four hours. =) Before I go, have I told you that I love you? I did? Well...it won't kill you to hear it again will it? ;)**


	25. Chapter 25

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 25: Commander of the Grey**

**

* * *

**

Selene was awoken by a Gauntleted fist banging on her door. She lifted her head up off Alistair's chest and squinted blearily into the half-light of the early morning that invaded her room. She realized that her cheek was wet and her fingers stole up to find that the moisture emanated from the corner of her mouth.

"Yep," Alistair chuckled. "You drool in your sleep," he pointedly wiped the corresponding wetness on his chest away and sat up as well.

Selene opened her mouth to retort with a no doubt witty reply when the impatient banging on her door sounded again. "Must be Oghren, no one else would dare," she smirked at Alistair's lifted brow and she grabbed a robe off of the post of her bed and slipped it on, tying it at the waist before flinging the door open.

"This better be good, Dwarf," she said in a grouchy tone which was completely nullified by the teasing smile she wore.

"Aye, its always good with old Oghren, lass. That's why the ladies call me, O-O-Oghren," he drew out his name in a sigh that sounded absolutely filthy and had Selene giggling.

"That had to be the most disturbing thing I have ever heard," Alistair commented from the bed.

"Yeah, well. Who asked ya?" Oghren retorted.

"Good point," Alistair replied.

"Oghren?" Selene called the Dwarf's attention back to her. "Not that I mind you coming to my rooms, but do you have a reason for pounding on my door before dawn?"

"You better get dressed and come downstairs, Commander. Watcher Rilyn, Ser Perth and some hot looking lady named Sigrun came in last night. Seems that Soldier's Peak got ambushed by Dark Spawn a few weeks ago," he replied.

"What!" she exclaimed. "Weeks? How did we not know this before?"

"Cause the messenger they sent to warn us never made it. Some Lady Warden named Niara," he replied.

"Oh, Maker…no!" Selene staggered a bit and was steadied by Oghren's large calloused hand. He helped her inside and supported her until Alistair had pulled on his trousers and was able to help her to a chair.

"Who else?" she asked.

"Them that showed up were the only ones that made it out alive," Oghren replied uncomfortably.

Selene sat there in shocked silence and then a sudden look of rage was the only warning that either man had before Selene's fist slammed down on the vanity table she sat at. The wood gave and splintered under the contact, luckily, or else she might have broken her hand.

"Son of a whore!" she swore at the abused furniture.

"I'll go let Varel know you'll be down in a bit," Oghren gave her a respectful nod and left, closing the door behind him.

Alistair waited while Selene sat there a moment to collect herself. Then unable to take the uncomfortable silence any longer he set a comforting hand on her shoulder. Which, she grasped gratefully. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

"No," she said firmly. "I'm not alright. However, I have some dark spawn to kill, and it will have to do for now."

"Understood," he replied knowing now was not the time to hover over her. "I'll go back to my rooms and get ready. Meet you downstairs in ten minutes?"

She kissed him on the cheek and offered him a reassuring smile. "Yes, thank you, my love."

He gave her hand a squeeze in response and left quickly for his room.

Selene hurried to her Wardrobe and pulled out a shirt and trousers. Then she took her newly cleaned armor off the stand where the servants had hung it for her while she had bathed the previous night.

She mechanically donned her armor as the familiar anger that she had carried with her for the duration of the blight built within her. The anger at Loghain, at Howe, at the dark spawn, it was the same now as it was then. Someone had messed with her family, had killed those that she loved, and they would pay.

As she dressed she saw Niara's face, heard Cyrus scold Xephi and worst of all, Xephi's responding belly laugh. Midway through the last strap on her armor her hands began to tremble and just as her ten minutes were up she was choking down the grief that clawed at the inside of her ribcage.

* * *

Ten minutes later everyone was gathered in the throne room. Alistair stood at Varel's side, his eyes trained on Ser Perth who looked lost and somehow smaller without his plate armor. He turned to look at Selene and when their eyes met it was like a punch in the gut. This was not the same man that she had left at Soldier's Peak. This man's eyes, though still blue, held untold amounts of pain and self loathing. This was a man tormented by his own demons. He smiled at her sadly and she found herself offering him a sympathetic smile in return. They both had lost here and she saw also, the understanding and the acceptance in his eyes. They were over, and he acknowledged it. She took the apology in his gaze and returned it. They could move on and work together; there were more important things at stake here.

When their wordless conversation was over the tension in the room lessened and she resumed her stride towards Varel. "What's the situation?" she asked when she reached him.

"Commander, Amaranthine is under attack. The city will fall if we don't respond immediately. But we have another problem. A horde is also heading here and will be here in another day," he said.

"Varel, I refuse to let this be an 'either/or' situation. There must be a way we can both save the city and defend the Keep," she folded her arms over her chest and then looked at her fellow wardens. "Any suggestions?"

"We need to march to Amaranthine. If we let those people die, then we're no better than the dark spawn!" Anders was the first to speak up.

"Don't be sodding stupid!" Oghren replied gruffly. "The city is lost, if we lose the Vigil then the rest of Amaranthine goes with it!"

"And what if it was Felsi and the baby in there?" Anders replied. "What would you sacrifice to save them?"

Oghren growled. "Everything. Sod, even the Commander," he favored her with an apologetic look and she returned it with a sympathetic smile.

"I love Amaranthine as much as anyone, Commander. Perhaps even more," Nathaniel replied. "But you can't lose the Vigil. We're all the Fereldan Wardens left."

"I'm with you, whatever you decide, Commander," Sigrun piped in.

"As am I," Ser Perth agreed.

"We cannot sit by while these vile creatures attack the helpless as we sit safe within our walls, make haste to the city Commander. Protect the innocent," Justice advised.

It was then that Selene realized that Alistair had been very quiet. "Alistair?" she prompted.

He looked up at her with a pale face. "Zevran, Bertram…Wynne. Maker's breath, I think they're still in the city!"

Of all the things she expected to hear. That was not it. "Andraste's ass!" she swore.

Everyone started talking at once and then began arguing and talking over one another and finally Selene had enough. "Silence!" she bellowed.

The room fell silent at her command and she looked at each of them in turn. "I have faith in this Keep, and in the men and women that Garrison it. I realize that we've been hit hard but the Wardens have suffered worse. It took three Wardens to unite the country and end the blight. And I swear by the Maker that with eight of us-," she was cut off when Velanna who had up until then been silent stepped forward.

"Nine," she said. "I took the joining while you were in Black Marsh."

Selene shot Varel a questioning look which he returned with a sheepish expression. She sighed, having no time to scold him for it. "Fine, nine. With eight of us, I see no reason why either the Keep or the City shall fall. I will take three of you with me to Amaranthine. The rest of you will stay here and make sure that the Vigil still stands when I return."

"I'm coming with you," Alistair said instantly.

Selene shook her head, "No, Alistair."

Alistair narrowed his eyes at her. "With all due respect Commander, you can hardly forbid me from going."

"Alistair, if you go, your men will want to come with you and I need them and you here!" she replied.

"They'll stay here, under Seneschal Varel's command. But I'm going with you, and that's final," his tone was commanding and while normally she would have pushed on and persuaded him with logic, he look on his face was stony and she actually flinched. He had changed since taking the throne. This wasn't Warden Alistair. This was King Alistair, and King Alistair wasn't going to be ordered around.

She sighed. "Yes, your Majesty," she replied but with a kind and accepting tone that held no hint of sarcasm or patronization.

"I'm going too," Anders volunteered.

"Alright," she nodded. She looked the rest over. One more, she would only take one more. She looked them all over, each one ready and eager to fight and die at her side. Finally the answer greeted her with a hawkish nose and an air of disdain that only a Howe can achieve, because in the end, Zevran would be most displeased with her if she let his lover die while she ran off to save him. "Nathaniel, this is a chance to redeem your family's honor. Will you come with me to defend Amaranthine?"

Nathaniel stepped forward and bowed, "It would be an honor, Commander."

She said goodbye to the rest of her extended family, clutching each of them to her as though it would be for the last time that they embraced.

And when she came to Oghren that grief that had gnawed at her insides earlier returned. "Don't you dare die on me, you dirty ol' drunk!" she said as she dropped to her knees and embraced him tightly.

He stiffened, momentarily taken aback by her emotional display and then his strong arms closed about her and he crushed her to him. "Don't be worrying about me, Lady," he said thickly. "You keep an eye on the little pike twirler and the man-skirt wearing freak. Either of them die and you're stuck with old Oghren to keep you warm at night."

She pulled back slightly and kissed him on the cheek, chuckling as his cheeks reddened. "There's no better Dwarf for the job," she laughed through the tears that were welling up in her eyes.

"Hey, get your own," Alistair teased as he helped Selene up from the floor and then he clasped hands with the dwarf. "Maker watch over you, my friend."

"Sure lad," replied Oghren. "And may the stone catch you, if you fall," with that he sauntered off with a suspicious wetness in his eyes and a loud sniff.

He was replaced with Ser Perth and Alistair stiffened beside Selene. Andre held up a hand, "Peace, Sire. I do not wish to start a fight. Selene knows her own mind and she's chosen. I just hope that you treat her right, this time around. Because I'll be waiting if you don't," he finished by taking Selene's hand and kissing it tenderly.

"There's no need to worry about that," Alistair said firmly.

Ser Perth nodded, seemingly satisfied with that answer, he dropped Selene's hand gently and looked into her eyes. "If we never see each other again, know that I did love you, in my own way. And I am sorry if it took me so long to see you for who you truly are. You are brave, good and true. The King is truly a lucky man."

"Andre," Selene whispered, unable to think of anything to say.

He shook his head and nodded to them both before letting Sigrun take his hand. "Good luck, Commander," the small dwarven woman said.

"You as well Sigrun," Selene replied, not missing the way that Sigrun gazed up at Ser Perth before she dragged him away, presumably to get ready for the battle.

The rest of the goodbyes went by quickly and before Selene was ready she was heading out of the keep and picking up a few last minute supplies from Master Wade on her way out.

Not two hours later they were on the Pilgrim's Path, making haste to Amaranthine.

* * *

Bertram watched as Ser Tamra adjusted the gloves of her newly acquired leather Armor, something that Zevran had picked up for her in the Market before the Merchants had gone to the Chantry with the rest of the surviving citizens. The city had succumbed rapidly to the virulent dark spawn disease, spread by large grub-like dark spawn that had burst out of the remains of the crown and lion as it smoldered.

"You don't have to do this, lass," Bertram pointed out to her and watched as she strapped the quiver full of arrows to her back.

"Amaranthine is my home, and I will defend it with my dying breath if need be," she replied without looking at him.

"Aye, I suppose I cannot deny you that. No matter how much I may want to," he replied and then he picked up his shield and his Longsword. With them securely in place, he raised his eyes again he found her large green ones staring directly into his soul.

"I never thanked you, did I?" she asked. "For saving me, I mean to say."

Bertram winked in response. "I tell you what, once this is over you can thank me with a kiss," he replied.

She seemed to consider this awhile and then she smiled a genuine smile. One that reached her eyes and lit up the room like the sun. "I suppose that is an acceptable boon."

Bertram laughed. "Aye, lass," he grinned. "I'll have to do my best to not let a Hurlock take off my head so that I might collect it."

She nodded. "See that you do."

Zevran clucked his tongue from the doorway, "And what about me?"

"Nobody wants to kiss you, elf," Bertram said without missing a beat.

Zevran clutched his chest theatrically. "You are such a cad to spurn my affections so!"

"You'll get over it," Bertram chuckled.

"It's true, so many men, so little time," he smirked as Ser Tamra huffed at the elf's inability to be serious.

"Don't let him get to you, dear. He only does it to irritate people," Wynne appeared from behind Zevran.

"Ah my lovely Wynne, you are such a cynical woman. It drives me mad with desire," he purred and then he reached downwards and goosed her. Then he pranced out of the way as she turned around and swiped at him.

"You keep your desires where I can see them, you rapscallion!" she said sternly and then entered the room and fussed over Bertram and Ser Tamra for a bit.

Bertram waved her off. "My shoulder is fine. Maker's breath if there was a demon of over-mothering you would be it," he teased.

Wynne chuckled. "It's a rough job, but someone has to do it. What about you dear? Any lingering pain?" she asked Ser Tamra.

"I'm fine, thank you Wynne. You've done an excellent job, I've never felt better," she replied with a grateful smile.

Outside, the alarm sounded, signaling that dark spawn had reached the city. The four exchanged glances, then gathered their weapons and left the house to do battle with the approaching dark spawn.

* * *

Selene, Alistair, Anders, and Nathaniel found the city already under siege. They dismounted and Selene felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck. It was too much like Denerim for her liking. She drew her Longswords.

"Ready boys?" she looked over her shoulder to make sure they were all dismounted and were ready to charge in at her back.

"Ready Commander," Alistair slipped his helm over his head and drew his shield and Longsword.

"Aye, Commander," Nathaniel replied his bow out and an arrow already in his hand.

"You can count on me, fearless leader," Anders gave his staff a twirl and flashed her a toothy smile.

She grinned at them and then put on her own helm. "For the Grey Wardens!" she roared and together they charged into the fray.

The dark spawn seemed to hear her as they stopped fighting and turned to face the charging Commander.

"Get the Warden-Commander! Tear her apart, the Mother demands it!" shouted one of the talking dark spawn.

Selene cackled wildly as it charged her. "You first!" Selene said as she dodged its first blow and swept her blades low, slicing into the backs of the creature's knees. The dark spawns legs gave out and she ran it through from behind, the tip of her blade piercing through the front of its chest. With a crow of triumph she placed her boot in the small of its back and shoved it off her sword, watching as it fell face first into the mud and did not move.

Whispering invaded her mind suddenly and she turned, her eyes widened in horror as she spied Alistair battling with two Genlocks and running at him full speed was an Ogre. "Sweet Andraste!" she exclaimed and ran towards Alistair. "Alistair!" she screamed.

He beheaded a one Genlock and then skewered the other, pushing it off his blade with a push of his shield. His head snapped up to see her running at him.

"Ogre!" she shouted.

He turned, just in time for him to be picked up and shaken like a ragdoll. "No!" she screamed.

Just then Anders came out of seemingly nowhere, casting healing spell after healing spell, trying to keep the King alive as long as possible.

An arrow whizzed by her ear and lodged itself in the junction between the Ogre's neck and shoulder. It roared in pain and dropped Alistair, who rolled to his feet and stood, dazed but alright.

"Alistair!" she cried out. "Take a knee!"

Alistair did as he was commanded and he kneeled. Selene used her momentum to vault onto Alistair's back and then she launched herself into the air, both her blades drawn. The dragonbone blades pierce through the silverite plate armor of the Ogre like a hot knife through butter. She twisted them into the monster's chest. "Die, damn you!" she screamed at it and eventually it fell backwards, Selene still clinging to it.

She climbed off of it and then she and her companions continued cutting a path of destruction through the creatures.

When they finally reached the gates they were greeted by the wide mischievous smile of Zevran. "Well, aren't you all a sight for sore eyes!" he exclaimed.

"I brought your boyfriend," Selene chuckled and inclined her head at Nathaniel, who lifted an eyebrow at her but didn't say anything.

"So you did," he said with a smirk and a twinkle in his eyes. "I was beginning to wonder just who it was that I was going to give a good celebratory ravishing to. Alas, Wynne has turned me down already."

As if summoned, Wynne appeared and frowned. "Oh, Selene! Thank the Maker you're here! If I had to endure one more conversation about my bosom I was going to hex him into next week."

"Wynne!" Selene exclaimed happily and threw her arms around the woman. "I was so worried about you!"

Wynne pulled back and patted her cheek affectionately, "Oh, no need to worry about me dear." Her gaze drifted past Selene and found Alistair. She squeezed Selene once more and then she was engulfed in Alistair's arms. "Alistair! I'm so glad you're alright!" she sniffled. "When we heard that half the horde was going to the Vigil, I feared the worst."

"I'm alright, Mother," Selene heard him say softly into the Mage's ear, which made the aging woman cry harder. When she was done she pulled away wiping her eyes.

Bertram sauntered up and clasped hands with the King, "Sire, is it too much to expect you to stay put and leave the dark spawn killing to others?"

"Yes," Alistair replied with a grin. "Good to see you, my friend."

"It's good to see you as well, your Majesty," he replied.

Their brief reunion was cut short by a cry from the battlements, "Here they come!"

"Right," Selene said drawing her swords and turning to face the enemy. "Let's show these bastards what happens when they mess with Fereldans!" she growled.

"Let's do this," Alistair agreed.

Together the eight companions faced the onslaught, dozens of Amaranthine guards at their back.

* * *

**A/N: This was a very emotional chapter for me. It reminded me of the goodbyes shared by the companions during the final battle in Denerim. **

**As for Alistair, Selene, Anders, Zevran, Nathaniel, Wynne and Ser Tamra, I don't expect to be writing about them again in this story until perhaps the very end. From here on out, its Ser Perth's show.**


	26. Chapter 26

The Tainted Knight

A Dragon Age Fanfiction

By Bionca Femme

Chapter 26:

* * *

While Selene and King Alistair fought valiantly to save the city of Amaranthine and deal with the aftermath of the blight disease that gripped the city, the remaining Wardens awaited the second siege of Vigil's Keep. With Selene in Amaranthine, it fell to Ser Perth to take command. How this came to pass had baffled him, but evidently it was not only his experience in leading men, but the length of time in which he had been tainted that determined his seniority.

Thus he stood atop the newly repaired outer wall watching with narrowed eyes as the first of the beasts melted out of the trees like living shadows, horrors spilling out of the dark and tainting everything with their vile nature.

"It's time men!" he called out to the Archers by his side, and to the men waiting below in the courtyard. "Once already have these twisted beasts violated our home and taken lives from us. But that will not happen again! For the Vigil, for Amaranthine... and for the Grey Wardens!" he bellowed.

The answering cry of the soldiers and the scant handful of Wardens gladdened his aching heart. For there was no hint of fear in it. "Archers!" he called out.

The line of Archers he stood next to lifted their bows, arrows knocked. "Take your aim!" he ordered, knowing that as soon as they loosed their arrows that they would fly swiftly into the night, seeking out the enlarged, slow-beating hearts of the five Ogres that had accompanied the dark spawn raiders.

He watched as the Ogres stopped in the middle of the field below the Keep, each bent and his eyes widened, they were plunging their large fists into the earth, grasping for boulders to throw at the Keep walls. "Fire!" he shouted.

Arrows were loosed and they found their marks and two of the Ogres fell with their arms still thrust elbow-deep into the ground.

The others roared, a combined terrible sound of pain that made him want to cover his ears. But he merely grimaced and shouted for the Archers to once again take aim. If they allowed even a single Ogre to make it to the gates, they would be fighting within the walls, he wanted to avoid that as long as possible.

The Archers fired again and two more went down, but the last Ogre had managed to wrench free a large boulder from the dirt and it hurled it at the walls of the Vigil, just below where he and the archers stood. The Vigil shuddered with the impact, though, it did not crumble, thanks to the skill of Master Voldrik whose stone-craft made the walls near impervious to the boulder attacks. Ser Perth and the archers staggered. When they steadied themselves, however, they found that the Ogre had bought itself the time it needed to make it to the gate, out of their line of sight.

Andre cursed and ordered the archers to keep firing into the still advancing dark spawn. He himself bounded down the rampart stairs and almost stumbled when he reached the bottom. "Make ready!" he shouted as he ran to join the soldiers waiting before the gates.

Just as he made it to where Oghren and Sigrun stood with Justice in front of the gathered soldiers, the sound of the Ogres massive fists trying to break down the gate beat out a terrible sound in the night air.

"Well," Sigrun said as she pulled her swords from their shoulder harnesses, "this is it!"

Oghren chuckled. "Aye, let's give them what for!"

"May vengeance and justice be served," Justice added with a confidence that made Ser Perth grin.

"It has been an honor, my friends," Andre said finally with a grin on his face.

All three of them nodded, knowing that this could be the last time that they had to speak with one another. Rilyn and Velanna were farther back as Velanna needed to keep out of the actual fighting so that she could cast healing spells and support the fighters. Rilyn had consented to protecting her as she did so. Andre and Sigrun had said their preemptive farewells to them just as the dark spawn had been spotted approaching the Vigil.

When the gate shattered under the Ogres' fists, they did not wait for the dark spawn to pour into the Vigil. Proud, brave men rushed forward to meet them, driving them back by the sheer ferocity of their will to live, to protect those that would perish should they not succeed in defending the Vigil. That day heroes were born; legends forged in the heat of battle.

Andre brought the might of his blade and his wrath down upon the tainted creatures, cutting a swath of destruction towards the Ogre. Once he reached the armor-plated behemoth, Andre was able to attract its attention. It made a grab for him, and Andre spun out of the way. Reversing the grip on his sword, he plunged it into the gap its armor between the creature's thigh and shin. The dragon-bone blade dug deeply into the monster's knee and it roared, kicking its leg out behind it and throwing Ser Perth to the ground. Ser Perth hit the blood soaked dirt with what would have been an 'oof', had the din of battle not drowned it out. When he looked up he found a giant purplish foot bearing down on him and he pulled out his dagger and drove it upwards. The creature let out an ear-shattering roar and then staggered away from its fallen prey.

Ser Perth rolled out of the way and got to his feet, readying himself for when the Ogre came at him again. Instead it started to wave its arms frantically trying to get at something on its back. It turned just enough so that Andre could see what it was. Sigrun clung to its back, her swords buried deep into the space between the armor and the helmet the Ogre was wearing. She twisted the blades and hung on as the creature spun around. Finally one of the blades dug deep enough that it severed an artery and the beast dropped to its knees and fell forward. Sigrun rolled off and sprang to her feet. She gave Andre a rather cheeky grin when she noticed he was gaping at her.

She only winked at him, and then, with a whoop of what Andre could only assume was excitement, she leaped back into the heat of battle.

The fighting continued into the early morning hours. When the smoke cleared, and the last hurlock's head was separated from its body, it was Andre that they hoisted upon their shoulders. Ser Perth had saved them by lobbing a number of Dworkins lyrium bombs at the largest groups of dark spawn. Eventually their numbers dwindled enough that they were able to turn the tide of battle.

* * *

"You know, for such a perky woman you certainly make a terrible patient," Andre teased Sigrun after she unleashed a colorful string of swearwords that would have made a sailor blush.

"I'm wounded! I can piss and moan all I like! I earned it," she retorted and then glared at Watcher Rilyn angrily as he pulled the bandage on her arm tighter.

Rilyn, to his credit, returned the glare with a jaunty smile and a wink that had her rolling her eyes. "You don't get to complain Lethallan, after all, no one told you to take on four shrieks by yourself."

"Maker's mercy!" Ser Perth sighed in exasperation. "You'd think you had a death wish!"

"Well, they don't call us the Legion of jaunty pub songs, you know," Sigrun replied with a sniff.

"Hah! I'd worry about you a lot less if they did," Ser Perth plopped down on the bed next to her. "If I'm not supposed to act foolishly, then I expect the same from you."

"But that's different," she protested with a faint whine.

Ser Perth raised and eyebrow at her, barely noticing that Rilyn decided that it was a good time to go check on something elsewhere. The Dalish Watcher left them alone in her room. "How is it different?" Andre asked.

"Well, you're more important than I am," she huffed, a little uncomfortable with the direction this was going.

"What a silly thing to say!" Andre couldn't help the stunned expression that passed over his face. Why on earth would she think less of herself than she thought of him?

Sigrun frowned. "You have a place in your world. You're a Knight. In my world, I'm a nothing but a thief from Dust town, I got put into the Legion for a reason, my purpose is to die. Yours is to live. I die to defend, you live to defend. It's simple really. Your living is important," she held up her bandaged arm. "Me dying; equally important."

"The Legion was wiped out, Sigrun. You aren't in the Legion any longer. And, if you hadn't noticed, you're a Grey Warden now. The blight was defeated, so while dying might be an occupational hazard, its certainly not the ultimate goal. Your purpose has changed, you shouldn't seek out death by dark spawn, you should seek out life by defeating them!" he finished with a growl.

She blinked at him in confusion. "I don't understand, why is this so important to you? What do you care?"

Andre shot up from the bed and started pacing at the foot of it. "You have absolutely no idea, do you?" he said angrily after a moment.

"By all the Ancestors!" she hissed out. "There had better be a point to this or I'm going to get cranky."

"Maker's breath, woman!" Andre exclaimed. "You _are_ important! Can't you see that?"

"No, I'm not!" she retorted.

"Yes you are!" he ground out.

"Really? To who? The Grey Wardens? To Surfacers? The Dwarves? Your weirdo surfacer God?" she growled.

"To me!" Andre burst out angrily. "You're important to me!"

Sigrun opened her mouth to say something else and then shut it abruptly when what he said finally registered. "Huh?"

Andre ran a hand through his auburn hair. He'd carefully washed all the gore from it and though it was clean, he still couldn't shake the feeling that there was still blood in it. He grimaced then he looked back at the bed to find her still sitting there looking shocked. He chuckled. "You know, I always thought it would take quite a lot to render you speechless. It seems that I have succeeded."

"You know, maybe the air is too thin way up there," she replied dryly. "You ought to try walking on your knees once and awhile, get a little oxygen to your brain."

"Is it so hard to believe that I might care for you?" Ser Perth sat back down next to her and took her hand in his.

"You don't think I'm a little short for you?" she asked half-jokingly, though there was a tremble in her voice.

Ser Perth chuckled. "If you can single-handedly slay an ogre almost three times my size, I don't believe height is an issue."

"You could find someone much prettier," she insisted.

"I happen to think you're quite lovely," Andre scooted closer to her and placed a hand palm down on the other side of her, leaning forward slightly.

Sigrun frowned. "What about all the tattoos? You can take the girl out of the stone, but you can't take the stone out of the girl, you know."

Ser Perth smiled down at her and then moved a little closer. "I rather like them, it makes me wonder where else you have them, actually. They're quite exotic."

Sigrun's eyes widened as he moved closer still, his face mere inches away from hers. "You're a strange man, you know that?"

There was a knock at the door and Andre grimaced in frustration. "Hold that thought," he kissed the tip of her nose and left a brightly blushing Sigrun sitting on her bed.

"Yes? What is it?" he asked when he flung open the door and found a wide-eyed female guard behind it. At the woman's expressiong, Ser Perth began to feel the inky tendrils of dread creep into his heart. They had won but their losses were monumental, there was little left of the Vigil's soldiers and had Velanna not been there he dreaded to think how much higher the number of dead would have been.

"Seneschal Varel sent me to fetch you, Ser. We caught a talking dark spawn skulking outside the Vigil. It says it has information for you!" she moved aside to let him pass.

The former Knight of Redcliffe did not bother thanking the guard, instead he stormed towards the throne room. Once there he threw open the doors and stalked up to where Varel was looking down at the creature, who was kneeling on the ground between two guards who had their blades on the creature, ready to run it through if it even breathed wrong.

"Varel, I trust you have a good reason for not killing this creature on sight?" Ser Perth regarded the Seneschal with irritation.

"Aye, Ser. This creature claims that he knows the location of the Mother," he replied.

Ser Perth looked down at the creature who held his gaze for a moment and then looked away. "The Architect is wishing that you kill the Mother."

"Why?" Andre folded his arms over his broad chest. "Maybe I should just let the two of them to kill each other and then destroy whichever one is left."

The dark spawn's eyes snapped up from the floor. "Because the Mother will not kill the Father. She is liking their game too well. But the Wardens she wishes gone forever. She will come again and again, until you are gone. Then she will start looking for a new Archdemon," the dark spawn explained.

Ser Perth's eyes narrowed at the creature. "Do you know who I am?"

The creature nodded. "The Tainted Knight," it answered.

Varel's bushy iron-gray eyebrows shot up in question and Ser Perth regarded him with only a glance that indicated that he would explain later. He turned his attention back to the creature. "So then, you know that I have fallen prey to your Architect before. Do you really suppose me such a fool as to do so again?"

"The Architect is not wishing the Tainted Knight's death. He wants only to free our people of the madness. For us to resist the call of the Old Gods. To stop the madness that causes us to bring the blight," the creature replied with a fervency that had Andre near shaking his head in bewilderment.

"You truly believe that's what he wants, don't you?" Ser Perth asked. The whole time that he had been a prisoner of the one they called the Architect, Andre had not been as taken in by him just as Seranni seemed to be. Andre thought that he had fooled and manipulated the girl, but it surprised Ser Perth that even this creature seemed to believe in the Architect's supposed agenda.

"He has always told us it was so. I do not want to go back to the before. To the madness where I was always asleep and hungry. There is never enough rest, never enough food and the song, it drives us into slavery. I would rather be dead than return to that," the creature replied.

Incredibly, Ser Perth felt a stab of pity for the creature at his feet. "Do you know where the Mother's lair is?"

"Drakes Fall," the creature replied. "You must be going to the place where Dragons go to die."

* * *

**A/N: I know that this is an extremely short chapter, being that I usually wait until I have around 3-4,000-ish words in a chapter before I post. But this was just such a great stopping point that I decided to go with it.**

**I have the rest done and hopefully I can get the rest of it out to you this weekend! Woohoo! =)**

**As always, thank you to Melismo!**


	27. Chapter 27

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age Fanfiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Chapter 27:**

* * *

"I know you can't be seriously thinking about doing this," Sigrun insisted as she followed Andre to Master Wade's forge. She limped a little from where one of her wounds on her leg was still healing. Her arm had gotten better quickly.

"I am," he replied before he gave Herren a smile and then handed him the breast plate he needed repaired.

"This reeks of stupid! You don't trust a dark spawn. Paragons! The last thing we need is more dark spawn thinking for themselves! The Architect tortured you, kept you a prisoner, tried to trap our Commander and now you're going to trust what he says and rush in to try and save the day without even talking to Selene first?" Sigrun grabbed Andre's arm and yanked hard so that he had to kneel before her. She took his face in her small hands and made him look her in the eyes. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because if I don't, this is never going to end," he replied and he leaned forward so that his forehead was touching hers. "Somehow this all comes down to me. The Architect has singled me out and if I don't do this then my being here may endanger everyone," he pulled back and kissed her on the forehead. When he again looked at her face he chuckled at her disgruntled expression.

"I don't know whether to kiss you or punch you," Sigrun growled.

He laughed and then decided for her. Tilting his head to the side he leaned down and ghosted his lips over hers, finding them cool and surprisingly soft beneath his.

"Oh Wade! Isn't that the most romantic thing you've ever seen?" Herren gushed as Sigrun and Andre pulled away from each other and the latter scrambled to his feet, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Wade made a petulant noise followed by muttering about how cold it was and how he never got anything exciting to work on.

"Oh, don't mind him," Herren smiled at the two. "Your armor will be ready in an hour, Ser Perth."

Andre inclined his head. "My thanks."

Herren made a shooing gesture and dropped Sigrun a knowing wink.

Sigrun returned the wink with a mischievous grin that had the man chuckling before she grabbed Andre's hand and dragged him towards the well, where she stopped and dropped his unceremoniously and crossed her arms over her chest. "I still don't like it."

Andre smiled down at her. "Are you saying you don't want me to go because its unwise, or is it something else?"

The question startled her out of her defensive stance. "I..."

He lifted and eyebrow at her and leaned against the well.

She tugged at one of her pigtails in agitation. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Because?" he prodded.

"What do you want me to say?" she burst out. "Alright, I like you! Happy?"

Andre let his smile widen. "Mostly."

"By the stone! Alright! I care about you," she grumbled. "And I'm going with you."

Ser Perth's smile slid off his face. "No...you're not."

"You can't stop me," she replied smugly.

Andre narrowed his eyes at her.

Sigrun squeaked as Andre picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. "Andre! Put me down! What do you think you're doing?"

"Stopping you," he replied and then yelped in pain as he felt her teeth sink into the muscle on his back. He thwacked her firmly on the bottom making her yelp in turn. "Stop that!"

"Andre Perth, you put me down this instant!" she shouted as he carried her into the Keep.

"As you wish," he said and then threw her into a linen closet and closed the door.

He held onto the doorknob firmly trapping her within, and looked around the hallway, finding Velanna watching him with a confused expression. "A little help, if you wouldn't mind?"

"You mean you want me to help you keep your durgen'len lover captive?" Velanna narrowed her eyes at Ser Perth. "Are you insane?"

"No, I just don't want her following us to Drake's fall. Her leg isn't all the way healed," he said loudly so that he could be heard over Sigrun's shouted protests and pounding.

Velanna rolled her eyes. "Very well. But you owe me, shem," she grumbled. "Out of the way."

Andre moved to the side quickly and Velanna raised her staff and chanted a few Dalish words. The door shimmered and a layer of color covered over the door, reminding Andre of a soap bubble in the sunlight.

"If you leave me in here, I will never forgive you!" Sigrun shouted.

Andre smiled. "I'll take you alive and angry over dead any day, love!" he said. "I'll be back, I promise!" He walked away from the closet, and the angry cursing dwarf within and gestured for Velanna to follow him.

* * *

Two Days Later...

Ser Perth stood before the Architect, at long last. He glared up at the twisted creature with undisguised contempt. "I had hoped we would never meet again."

The dwarven woman at the Architect's side drew her waraxe. "No, Utha," the Architect chided. "That is not how this must begin."

"No...no, I think she has the right idea," Ser Perth drew his sword, the others followed suit with their weapons. He had brought Velanna, Oghren and Justice with him.

"Its nice to see you again, sister," a voice from the shadows called their attention elsewhere.

"Seranni!" Velanna gasped as her sister materialized from a shadowed nook below the balcony that the Architect was standing on.

Seranni stepped into the light and much to Ser Perth's surprise she looked much the same as the last time that he had seen her. The taint had not progressed any further for the elven girl. "What has he done to you?" Velanna took a few steps forward and was stopped when Ser Perth grabbed her elbow.

"Let me go! I must help her!" she hissed at him.

"There is no way to help her without blood magic," Andre replied. "I'm sorry."

"So, that is how you reversed the effects of my little experiment," the Architect said thoughtfully. "How interesting. I would like to speak with the Mage who accomplished it."

"Well, being that he sacrificed himself to do it, you'll pardon me if I don't introduce you," Andre sneered.

"Pity," the Architect said sincerely.

"That is the one thing that we can agree upon creature," Andre bit out. "Now it is time for you to die."

"Do you not wish to hear why I'm doing this? Don't you want to know what I am planning?" the Architect asked him.

"I know you claim to be trying to stop blights. You may even believe that yourself. Your minions certainly believe it. However, actions speak louder than words, creature. Two attacks on the Grey Wardens hardly inspires confidence," Andre sneered.

"You waste time talking to this dark spawn, let us end this and avenge its victims!" Justice growled.

"You're right, Justice," Ser Perth pointed at the Architect with his great sword. "Blood can only be repaid with blood!"

"So be it," the Architect said with a sigh of remorse. And then he disappeared from the balcony, only to reappear again some feet away from Ser Perth. The crackle of magic in the air raised goosebumps on Andre's skin and the ozone sizzled before he was rolling out of the way of a stray bolt of lightning.

He rolled to his feet and raised his sword, he brought it down only to have it caught by the ax of the silent Utha. She heaved upwards throwing him back. The others seemed to launch themselves into action at that time. The battle was grueling. Andre and Utha circled each other, each looking for an opening and finding little that was unguarded about their opponent. Utha smiled gruesomely at the knight and he repressed a shudder, and then she made her move, lashing out with a dagger and causing him to dance backwards. He tripped on a flesh pod and Utha took the opportunity to rush him. Then, incredibly she was slipping and falling forwards, her ax above her head as she hurtled towards him. Andre's eyes widened and he thrust his sword forward and up at the last moment, impaling her.

The dwarven woman's silvered eyes bulged and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Andre watched in horror and fascination as the life ebbed out of her and she was gone. He rolled sideways and up onto his knees, letting the body slide off his sword. Later he would find out that Velanna had seen what was about to happen and had cast a grease spell in Utha's path. An action that he would forever be grateful for.

He looked up from the fallen body of Utha to find his three companions surrounding a fallen Architect.

Ser Perth heaved himself up off his knees and made his way over to them. The Architect was a live, but fading fast.

"Have mercy," the creature said in his soft voice and Ser Perth hesitated.

It would be a moment that he would never be able to forget, the Architect held his hand out to him, begging him for mercy. And he could practically hear the outraged screams of his fallen Warden brethren. "Very well, creature," Andre said, his face and voice devoid of emotion. He drew his sword arm back and without a second thought he plunged his sword into the Architects heart.

A wail caused them all to look up at the same time. "You! You call that mercy? You murdered him!" Seranni sobbed.

"Seranni," Velanna sighed sadly.

"Yeah, you do it and you call it a misunderstanding. We do it and you call it murder.

I can see where that might get confusing," Oghren grunted.

Andre set his hand on Velanna's shoulder, "Her taint is only transferable through her blood. As long as you don't touch it, you can't get sick. It might be kinder to..." he trailed off and squeezed her shoulder. "I'll leave that decision up to you."

Velanna's eyes filled up with tears and her lower lip trembled but she nodded none-the-less. "Sister," Velanna reached out to Seranni whose own eyes widened and she backed away as if she had been burned.

"You are not my sister. You killed him. I loved him and you killed him!" Seranni shrieked and pulled a knife, she came at Velanna and in the next instant they were looking at a frozen statue of Seranni.

Velanna lowered her staff with a sob, "I'm so sorry, Seranni."

* * *

They moved down into the bowels of the ruins, the sickening spiral of the stairs had even Oghren abstaining from the ale in his beard flask.

They fought a seemingly endless amount of dark spawn and the creatures called the children before finally coming to a large cavern. In the middle of all the bones and rotting dragon corpses and the detritus of dark spawn infestation, was a broodmother unlike any other that Ser Perth had ever seen.

The top of her looked disturbingly like a woman. Though she was a woman no longer. The bottom half of her body was like that of a regular broodmother, with tentacles, too many breasts, and corpulent beyond sanity. She was hunched over when they first approached, but at hearing their footsteps the monstrosity straightened. Her facial expression went from grief stricken to slightly amused.

"So! The hero of the hour!" she held up her blackened arms. "The mighty slayer of the Father. It comes seeking a reward?" she chuckled in a raspy voice.

"My only reward shall be your death, foul creature!" Ser Perth growled.

"Oh?" The Mother replied delightedly. "Has the Tainted Knight come to slay the mother too? Will she join the Father in Oblivion?"

"This is a disgusting creature of evil and hate," Justice interjected. "We must destroy her."

Just then there was a 'whooshing" noise as something sailed through the air, just as it past by Ser Perth he realized that it was Oghren's ax. It met its mark in the mountainous flesh and the Mother screamed, her face splitting apart with mandibles, revealing the skeleton like insides of her face.

Ser Perth looked over his shoulder with a brow lifted in Oghren's direction.

The dwarf shrugged. "All this talkin made me twitchy," he explained and then they all moved forward to attack. The Mother's screams drew dark spawn to her aid in waves of horror.

Oghren recovered his ax when the Mother ripped it from her body and flung it away with a tentacle. Ser Perth shouted for Velanna's help as he was swarmed with grub like children, each trying to bring him down with their insect-like appendages.

Velanna twirled her staff and sent out the Hand of winter to freeze them all. Together with Justice Andre managed to shatter them with his sword crush them under his boot heel.

A wail followed up by a shriek of rage from the Mother had Ser Perth whirling to face her, just in time to avoid being grabbed by a tentacle. He jumped out of the way only to have a shriek knock him down from behind.

"Justice!" he shouted as he struggled beneath the creature, who was trying to stab him through his plate armor.

Justice came running and rammed his shield into the creature, allowing Ser Perth to roll to his feet. He nodded his thanks. "I'm going to deal with the broodmother!" he told the fellow who swiftly strode towards the shriek and ran it through while it was still dazed.

"Velanna, keep them off me!" he shouted to her and then he charged, ducking as a tentacle swiped at his head.

"Tricky!" the Mother cackled. "Tricky, tricky Knight!" she lashed out again and this time he raised his sword and met the tentacle with a blow of his own. The dragon-bone blade bit deep into her flesh and then severed the appendage, which fell twitching to the ground.

She screamed in pain and as she did Ser Perth saw his opening. He ran the last few feet to her mountainous body and launched himself into the air, sword over his head and he plunged deep into her wide-open mouth and the sword easily sank through and out the other side, cutting off the scream instantly.

Andre waited until the body stopped twitching before he climbed down off the body. The rest of the dark spawn skittered away from them in fear. Andre stood there a moment, staring at the body of the brood mother until his was clapped on the back by a chuckling dwarf.

"Heh, way to go, kid! That'll shut her up! All that screeching was getting' to me," Oghren took a pull from his flask.

"It's over," Velanna said with awe and a small disbelieving laugh. "It's finally done."

"It is done," Justice agreed. "Kristoff has been avenged and I can return his body to Aura."

"Let's go home," Andre said with a nod, then they left the Cavern and the Mother behind.

* * *

When they finally returned to the Vigil, Ser Perth was met with an armful of Sigrun. Of course after she made sure that he was alright he was ignored for three days straight for leaving her behind.

On the third day, Selene and her party returned with Ser Tamra, Bertram Woolsey, Zevran and a mage named Wynne in tow. There were still many wounded at the Vigil so the three Mages immediately set about healing the soldiers.

Alistair and Selene called a meeting shortly thereafter with all the Wardens. "I've called you all here because as of this morning, the First Warden has accepted my resignation."

There was an eruption of protests from the gathered Wardens, but Selene held up her hand signaling for silence. Eventually they did calm down but none of them, including Ser Perth, were very happy about it. "I understand that this may come as a shock to most of you, and while I will always in some capacity be a Warden, I have a new position in Denerim that I have decided to take," she turned a brief smile on Alistair who returned it affectionately.

Ser Perth felt conflicted at the realization that she was going to marry the King. On some level he still cared for her, and on another he was greatly happy for her. She deserved happiness after defeating the blight and all that she had accomplished.

"What position? And who will be the new Warden Commander?" Anders demanded.

Selene's smile grew wider. "Queen," she said, answering his first question. And then she turned her gaze on Ser Perth and he felt apprehension steal over him. Why was she looking at him like that? She couldn't mean him...could she?

"In light of recent events, the actions of one individual has gained the notice of not only I, but of the Wardens in Weisshaupt as well. It is the opinion of the First Warden, and I agree with him, that Ser Perth would make an excellent Warden Commander. That is of course, if he accepts," she finished with a grin.

Andre opened his mouth and closed it. Then he opened it again and what he was thinking was 'Are you sure that's wise?' and what came out was, "It would be my honor, my Lady."

"Heh, I'll drink to that!" Oghren belched and broke up the seriousness of the room. They crowded around him, shaking his hand and congratulating him before filing out to do whatever it was they were doing before Selene called the meeting.

That left Alistair, Varel, Selene and Ser Perth in the room. Ser Perth approached the others and clasped hands with the King, who smiled good naturedly enough. "Congratulations, Commander," Alistair said with a grin of his own.

Andre couldn't help but return the smile. "To you as well, Highness."

"We have made arrangements to leave by tomorrow. We have to deal with Chancellor Eamon before this all is well and truly over," Selene told him, her good cheer almost gone.

"You have the support of the Wardens and the Arling of Amaranthine," Andre pledged.

Selene gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Commander. May the Maker watch over you."

"And you," he replied and watched as the King and his future Queen exited the room, leaving him with only Varel.

"My congratulations on becoming the new Commander and Arl of Amaranthine," Varel's smirk did not go unnoticed and Ser Perth chuckled.

"Varel, there are days when I wonder what I got myself into when I met Selene Cousland," he shook his head.

Varel nodded and favored him with an amused half smile. "As do we all, Commander."

"Carry on, Seneschal," Ser Perth said and then left the throne-room. Upon exiting the doors he was immediately confronted by the woman he'd come to adore.

She grinned up at him. "Well, Commander, huh? Not bad, not bad at all!"

He dropped to a knee and took her smaller hands in his. "So, am I forgiven?"

Sigrun responded by grabbing the front of his tunic and pulling him forward, kissing him deeply. When she pulled away she favored him with a cheeky grin. "A couple more of those and I'll think about it."

Andre chuckled. "As you wish," he replied and pulled her into his arms, kissing her until she was breathless.

* * *

**A/N: Maker's breath, that's it. That's the end. The grand hoorah! There will be a wee bit of an epilogue as in the game. To tell you what happened when Selene and Alistair made it back to Denerim. Leliana's and Fergus's wedding, and the fate of all the companions. But as for the story itself, I think its played itself out.**

**I know that this story kind of got away from me and turned out completely different from what it started out as. But when I started it, Awakenings wasn't even out yet and I found myself changing it to go along with what happened in the DLC. Thinking back on it now, though part of me wishes that I hadn't gone along with Awakenings. I can't bring myself to feel too sorry about it. After all, Awakenings gave us, Anders, Nathaniel, and Sigrun. **

**This was my first attempt at Dragon Age Fanfiction and it was also my longest fic to date. I found it very challenging and at times almost overwhelming. Everyone has been so supportive and I've met many wonderful people in the Dragon Age Fanfic community.**

**I want to take a moment to thank my regular Reviewers, the ones that kept me going and were always willing to let me know what they thought. Piceron, Melismo, Eva Galana, Jakers75, Liso66, Shakespira, Deep Neptune, Mille libri, Zute, Ladyamesindy, and anyone else that I may have left out.**

**Most of all, I want to thank Melismo, who made a lot of this possible through much hand holding, head patting and gentle suggestions. I'm really lucky that she decided to take pity on me and was willing to clean up my grammar.**


	28. Chapter 28

**The Tainted Knight**

**A Dragon Age FanFiction**

**By Bionca Femme**

**Epilogue:**

* * *

King Alistair and his betrothed returned to Denerim two weeks after the siege of Amaranthine and the battle of Vigil's Keep. An order of arrest was immediately issued for Chancellor Eamon. The royal guard stormed his Denerim Estate only to find that he had hung himself only the day before the King's arrival. Isolde having had enough of Ferelden and the seemingly endless misfortune she had suffered since the beginning of the blight, left to live with her family in Orlais.

Selene and Alistair were married shortly thereafter. Noble and common folk alike were in attendance and the celebration of their union lasted a whole week before the Denerim guard was finally forced to put an end to it. The King and Queen were much beloved by their people and though they were unable to conceive a child of their own, they were gifted with many children as Goldanna had taken ill and when she passed away the children became Alistair's responsibility. Eventually, they named the youngest boy the heir to the throne. Though this was met with much resistance, the nobility eventually relented as they realized that the young man possessed most of the best qualities of their beloved King.

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Fergus and Leliana were married shortly after Selene Cousland became Queen. Their wedding took place on the cliffs of Highever overlooking the Waking Sea. Leliana could think of no better Cathedral than the natural beauty of the land she had come to love, crafted as she said, by the Maker's own hand. The Royal couple were in attendance as were Leliana's companions during the blight. The sun shown brightly down on them as they said their vows and it is said that the sunshine that broke through the clouds to illuminate the newly wedded pair as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife was a blessing from the Maker himself.

Fergus and Leliana eventually gave birth to a daughter, Brenna. Who as she grew older, much to the amusement of her parents and her Aunt, took after Selene in both looks and disposition. Earning herself the nickname 'Pup' at a young age. When she came of age shortly after Selene answered her calling in the deep roads at the side of her love, Alistiar. Brenna joined the Grey Wardens and became a legend in her own right. But that is a story for another time...

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Bertram Woolsey returned to Denerim with his King for a time. Eventually he left for good to answer the call of his heart, which as it happens, was left in the hands of a certain young Lady Knight, by the name of Ser Tamra. Ser Tamra herself was awarded Bann Esmerelle's titles and lands when it came to light how she suffered at the woman's hands. She and Bertram spent the rest of their lives together in Amaranthine.

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Nathaniel spent many years in the service of the Grey Wardens and when he saved Teryn Fergus Cousland from being assassinated was awarded back a portion of Amaranthine and a title. Which, upon his death he left to his sister's son. He never married, though rumor had it that he kept company for many years with a handsome ex-Antivan crow.

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Anders remained many years with the Grey Wardens, but eventually his Wanderlust got the better of him. He informed Warden Commander Andre that he was leaving the Wardens and that very day set off in a northerly direction. He was never seen again. Though from time to time, the Wardens would receive word of a handsome Warden-Mage who would turn up out of the blue to help the sick, and troubled, then help himself to their daughters and disappear again without a trace.

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Oghren and Felsi tried to rekindle their relationship but inevitably, Felsi could not endure Oghren's drunkenness for long. She brought their child to see him at the Vigil regularly for a time and then eventually she stopped coming. If Oghren missed her or their child, he never said.

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True to his word, Justice had avenged the murder of Kristoff by the Lost in the ruined township of Black Marsh. Upon returning to the Vigil, Justice immediately headed for Amaranthine. It is said that when Aura opened the door to her home to find Justice standing there. He was rumored to have said, "Vengeance is yours, my Lady." Before she could respond the body of Kristoff fell into a heap at her feet, the spirit of Justice gone. Whether back to the Fade or elsewhere is not known.

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Shortly after accepting the post of Warden Commander, Andre named Rilyn the Watcher of Vigil's Keep. He and Varel soon had the Vigil back to its old self with the help of Master Voldrik. Recruitment quickly rebounded once word of the Battle and the defense of Amaranthine came to the attention of the rest of Ferelden. Somehow though, Watcher Rilyn still found time to woo the beautiful if prickly Velanna. Who, despite her numerous evasions of him, finally consented to bond with him.

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Arl Teagan stayed the Arl of Redcliff after apologizing profusely for his misguided part in Eamon's plans. The Arling flourished under his rule and soon he too found wife and raised a family. Though, true to form, he hardly ever came to Denerim unless it was to visit with the King and Queen.

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As for the Warden Commander himself? The Arling of Amaranthine prospered beyond the expectations of the First Warden and the Crown. Andre proved an adept ruler who guided his people with a fair and even hand. He never married, though it was rumored that in the early morning hours, a certain dwarven woman could be seen leaving his bedchambers daily.

When Andre finally answered his calling, it was with Sigrun at his side.

(/)(/)(/)

With the Architect and the Mother gone, peace once again came to Ferelden as the dark spawn retreated to the deep roads, some say to search for a new Archdemon. The Grey Wardens grew in strength and renown. And to this day the legend of The Tainted Knight endures still.

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**A/N: Thank you, to you all. ~Bionca Femme**


End file.
